Star Trek: Maximillian Beyond The Final Frontier
by Chris Stephenson
Summary: One Admiral, One Android, One Captain, and One Ship, are all that stand between our universe, and annhilation...
1. Extranormal Occurances

EXTRANORMAL OCCURANCES  
  
Stardate 53000.0  
  
     If you were to lay out a flat map of the Alpha Quadrant, formatting a Three-dimensional space into a two-dimensional area, then at the leftmost edge of explored space you would find the Archer Observatory.  A smaller version of the standard Federation starbase, Archer housed an eclectic mix of cultures, from standard humans on up to the stranger lifeforms, such as the Gorn and the Anticans.  Suprisingly, everything had worked out.  There were no large disagreements, and there was peace among the many.  
  
     The observatory itself functioned as a makeshift listening post primarily, but at times, especially over the past standard year or so, it held a number of interesting experiments, many overseen by high-ranking officials in the Federation.  But lately the rush for technology had slowed, and the new center for research had been established in sector 001, where the Pathfinder project was well underway.  
  
     And at this moment, while many of his officers were celebrating the new  year, Admiral Richard Clemson was thinking about how much he would rather be on earth, contributing something to the cause, instead of just holding down the fort here.  
  
     Once you got past all the regulations and by-the-book nonsense that made his job all the harder, overseeing the Archer experiments was easy.  Sure, he'd had his share of close calls, many of which had vaporized large chunks of the station itself, but that was one of the unfortunate side effects to working with untested forms of energy.  
  
     The Archer experiments had largely become an offshoot of the Pathfinder project, mainly dealing with energies with potentially dangerous consequences should something go wrong.  That was why the Observatory was placed so far away from most populated sectors and known space: less questions to answer if something did go wrong.  
  
     Admiral Clemson sighed as he stared out at the stars.  You just never knew how much you'd miss sky when you came out this far, he thought to himself.  What he wouldn't give for a blue tint to his surroundings, a sun or two, and a cloud going about it's business, flowing by in the endlessness of the atmosphere.  He counted the days in his head until his tour at Archer would end, and he could return to his nice office at Starfleet Headquarters, on Earth.  He closed his eyes and imagined the sound of the ocean, the feel of the air blowing against his face.  Oh sure, he could go to the one functioning holodeck they had, but it just wasn't the same as the real thing.  
  
     He cursed Admiral Lyon in his head.  He didn't care how many stars he had, Lyon was wrong to send him, or any other Admiral out here when there was no good reason for it, at least that he could see himself.  If he wanted this place to be 'overseen' so bad, then let him do it himself.  But as for Admiral Richard Carter Clemson, he had more important things to do!  
  
     As he thought a voice came over the intercom.  "Admiral?"  
  
     "Go ahead"  He said gruffly.  
  
     "Sir, we have a situation down here..."  
  
     "I'm on my way.  Clemson out."  He sighed.  A bunch of Commanders and Captains on this dump and they still got nervous when an Admiral was around.  Had to have him look over every little thing.  Oh well, at least it would make the time pass.  He whistled to himself, "I left my heart, in San Francisco" as he walked out of his room.  
  
   
  
"The War Room", as it was referred to throughout the Observatory, was in actuality nothing more than a viewscreen and a few stations, the standard ones, such as Sensors, Communications, and so on.  It was here that Clemson entered, walked down the steps, and sat in his chair.  He sighed heavily, then turned to the Commander at the Sensors station.  "What is this about, Commander?"  
  
     "Visual."  The Commander spoke, and the viewscreen erupted into the sight of space.  A dense cloud of gas hovered just to the right of the screen, it's reddish hue extending it's light onto the Observatory.  The Commander spoke again.  "About fifteen minutes ago we registered some sort of gravimetric swell, but when we took a look at it, nothing was there.  I ordered regular checks of the area, and just now, we saw this."  He turned to the viewscreen.  "Magnify quadrant b-53"  
  
     The view suddenly zoomed in, and it became clear that there was something not quite right at work.  There was a swirling mass of blue energy, and in the center of this lay...nothing.  A black space.  Admiral Clemson glanced at the Commander.  "What...is that?"  
  
     "Unknown.  We've scanned it, thrown a probe at it, even hailed the damn thing.  All we know is that it's completely flat, with no mass or density...I can't even tell you what kind of energy it is."  
  
     Clemson nervously fingered his chin.  "Does it pose a threat?"  
  
     "The probe will arrive in a few seconds, we should know more then."  
  
     The Admiral sat back.  "Put it on screen, Commander."  He thought for a second, then tapped his Communicator.  "Command personnel, report to the War Room."  
  
     As the first group began to enter the room, the probe was nearing the energy swirl.  It stopped, and began active scans on the form, as everyone sat, waiting.  Captain Barker, the Andorian commanding the probe, pressed the controls lightly.  He looked over his readings, then turned to the Admiral.  "Preliminary scans report...nothing, sir.  It's as if there isn't anything there."  
  
     Clemson frowned.  "But there is something there...push it forward.  I want to see if it's some sort of cloud or gas..."  
  
     "Aye, Sir."  Barker pushed a few buttons, and the probe moved again, silent and swift through the blackness of space.  As it neared the black nothingness in the center, which had a diameter enough to swallow a Galaxy Class Starship, small blue electric sparks began to extend from the surrounding swirl of blue energy.  
  
     As they watched, Captain Barker tried to slow the movement of the probe, but wasn't having any luck.  "Sir," He said nervously, "the Probe is being drawn into the energy!"  
  
     "Call it back, Captain."  
  
     "No Effect...It's like it's in some form of tractor beam!"  
  
     They watched in awe as the probe entered the black hole of the energy...and disappeared into it.  Within a second, there was no sign that the probe had ever existed at all.  
  
     "Admiral!"  The Captain's eyes widened.  "I can't find the probe!  It's just...gone..."  
  
     "Calm down, Captain, it can't be just gone, check your..."  He was interrupted by the Commander.  "Sir...the energy..."  
  
     The swirl had sped up it's endless rotation, and the hole in the center was flashing yellow and white.  
  
     Clemson moved towards the edge of his chair.  "What...?"  
  
     Suddenly, a bright light filled the viewscreen, forcing them all to cover their eyes.  After the light had dissipated, they saw the pieces of the probe that had just entered the hole floating around them, destroyed.  
  
     Clemson stood up quickly.  "No."  
  
     As they continued to watch, the swirl began to undulate, twisting and turning in on itself.  Then there was another bright light, and as quickly as it had appeared it vanished, leaving only a trace of dust, and an object.  
  
     The object was in a crystalized shape, and it moved quickly towards the station.  Clemson stuttered as he turned to his Communications officer, who was as white as a sheet.  "Comm...send an emergency distress signal to Star-Starfleet...no, to Admiral Robert Lyon specifically...Tell him...Tell him that the Sunburst point has been breached...he'll know what it means."  
  
     The Comm officer, herself a Captain, frowned.  "I don't understand..."  
  
     "Just do it!"  He snapped, and turned back towards the screen, watching as the crystal approached.  It slowed, and then stopped, facing them, as though running a silent scan.  As though anticipating the next question, the Commander shook his head.  "I can't make out a scan."  
  
     Clemson nodded, and turned back to his Comm officer.  As he did so, one shard of the crystal form began to glow eerily.  Clemson sighed one last time, as he asked, "Has the message been sent?"  
  
     "Yes Sir."  
  
"Good...good."  He sat back in his chair.  
  
     The light from the shard began to extend out towards the observatory, and as it hit the outer hull, it suddenly began to bubble and melt away.  The now superheated Observatory began to break up into space, pieces flying, spinning off into the endless reaches, to float forever.  It was an admittedly quick death for all involved, as the crew were disintegrated by the light immediately at the time that it hit the station, as it flooded the inside instantaneously.  
  
     As what was left of the once proud Archer Observatory floated off into nothingness, the crystal form began to float off, a little quicker now.  But there was no hurry...it would get there when it needed to. 


	2. Preparations for Departure

STAR TREK MAXIMILLIAN  
  
BEYOND THE FINAL FRONTIER  
  
   
  
PREPARATIONS FOR DEPARTURE  
  
ONE MONTH LATER  
  
   
  
FADM Robert S. Lyon looked out over the Promenade, his eyes firm, masking a tiredness and a certain sadness that this was no longer specifically his crew.  Indeed, the crew of the U.S.S. Maximillian was now three Captains removed from being under his command.  Instead, he now held his rank as one of the highest ranking Admirals in Starfleet.  He held this with modesty and a bit of humility, but few others had ever reached his rank, because few others had ever done the things that Lyon had done.  
  
Right now he looked over the crew of the Maximillian, celebrating a mix between the final end to the long and costly Dominion war, and their own upcoming shore leave. The Maximillian in fact was to start heading to Earth, for years of time in the Menkare Expanse had taken their toll on the Sovereign Class Vessel, and she was to be returned to her former glory, as the most beautiful ship in Starfleet…at least according to those who saw her.  
  
He knew these officers needed rest and shore leave, if only for a few weeks…but there was no time. The ship was needed. The strange object that had broken through Sunburst point had accelerated, and while before it would not have reached it's destination for decades, now it would get there in a matter of months. Before there was time for research and study, to best decide how to destroy it. But now there was no time, and it was up to this crew, and the crews of as many ships that he could call, to intercept and stop this…this destructive force.  
  
It was no time for a new Captain to be put into power.  
  
The newly installed Klingon Captain S'Quid Tai Septaric fell into Rob's gaze, and he narrowed his eyebrows. He felt at this time of crisis experience was needed, not an untested Captain and Command Staff. He looked up at the ceiling and sighed. Sometimes you had to work with what you had.  
  
He moved his gaze over to Captain Howard's appointed first officer, Commander Kragnar. Though as untested as the Captain, Kragnar had worked with her on a vast majority of occasions, and even more suprising than that, they were brother and sister. While on Klingon ships it was not unusual to find a family group commanding a vessel, in Starfleet it was almost unheard of. And while it unnerved most Admirals to have such a powerful ship in the hands of two of the few Klingons in Starfleet, Lyon trusted them…He just wished it was under different circumstances that they had to take their first command.  
  
Kragnar was talking to Kelvok, a rarity. An offshoot from both the Romulan and Vulcan races, he was something of a curiousity to all that encountered him, but as a member of the crew of the Maximillian, he had earned the trust of everyone, and thus had been chosen as second officer.  
  
Then another officer caught his eye, and Lyon focused on his adjutant, Lieutenant Commander Critch Starblade.  
  
No-one knew where the name came from, it was as strange as Starblade's looks. He was of a race unknown to the Federation, and he was one of the two mechanical beings in Starfleet…Starblade was an android.  
  
The only other android in Starfleet, also a LCDR, and also Operations Chief, Data of the Starship Enterprise, although impressive in his own right, was simply outclassed by the specs of Starblade. Critch had working emotions from day one, whereas Data had to go to great lengths to acquire his, and where Data had some difficulty keeping his works under control, Starblade had not malfunctioned during his entire stay in the Federation. He had been found floating in space, quickly restored to life by the experts on board the science vessel Asimov, and although he couldn't remember where he was from, he knew the standard direction…somewhere beyond our galaxy, so it was a mystery how he had got to our place in the universe.  
  
His greenish-gold skin shone in the light as he walked to the Maximillian's chief engineer (At the time of the original writing – Ed.) LT Erica Sherman, still a bit green from the academy, but she was a quick learner, though a bit shy, and it was through the urgings from several others that she had taken her post in Engineering.  
  
Lyon's eyes hit on the rest of the leaders of his former ship. His medical chief, Dr. Alexander. His intelligence officer, Tamak, a former Captain himself. Many others, of which he could never forget their names. Kojak. John. Robin. Shaylen…Their names popped into his head as he looked them over.  
  
Starfleet's finest. But would they be enough? He asked himself this question as he watched the rest of his admiralty board approach him. RADM Blobbin (Part of an even longer name, for his species of Errsedorians use their first name as their chosen name, the second is that of their parent, the third the grand-parent, and so on. His real name began with Equezumre Vevom Klaosdkif, and it goes on for over a hundred more. He is called Blobbin by his associates mainly due to his appearance, that of a silver blob of mercury and his ability to change form.) pudged towards Lyon, followed closely behind by RADM Turok T'Kill, a Romulan/Human hybrid, and a former Captain of the Maximillian himself. They approached him slowly, then stopped.  
  
"You're sure this is the right thing to do, Rob."  
  
"Yeah, we all like to watch a good explosion…but I would've thought the Max would be a little too new for you to go blowing it up again." Blobbin added.  
  
Lyon sighed to himself, and shook his head. "We're out of options. I wish there was another way too, but this is what we have to work with." He started walking, and Blobbin and T'Kill quickly followed. "We're the closest ship to it, and we're running out of time as it is. I think we'll do all right. We aren't called the most advanced starship in the fleet for nothing."  
  
"All the technology in the universe is no replacement for an experienced crew." T'Kill stated stiffly.  
  
"I know…God how I know. That's why I will be accompanying the Maximillian on it's voyage."  
  
T'Kill and Blobbin stopped, and Lyon continued, answering their questions and statements before they even started. "This is not a suicide mission, I am simply going on to make sure everything runs as smoothly as it can."  
  
Turok shook his head. "But…But…There's no logic in this!"  
  
"Careful Turok, your Vulcan is showing." Blobbin nudged T'Kill.  
  
Flustered, Turok continued. "You will simply add your death to the rest of the ship! It's…an unnecessary sacrifice."  
  
"Your opinion has been noted. Fortunately, you'll be there to prove me wrong."  
  
"Wha…" T'Kill rubbed his forehead. "Oh no."  
  
Lyon continued. "Because of the dire circumstances, the crew requires our support, and like it or not, she is still our ship. I'd get some rest if I were you." Lyon briskly continued to pace, leaving Blobbin and T'Kill behind.  
  
Blobbin pudged towards T'Kill. "You know…this is all your fault."  
  
"MY fault? Listen, you glob of putty…" The argument trailed off as they left Lyon's sight, leaving him to check his padd for the time, and then walk to the center balcony overlooking the Promenade, for it was almost time to deliver the sad news to the crew. That instead of shore leave beginning as scheduled, their lives would be placed in danger yet again.  
  
He looked down upon the crowd as he stepped into the center, and cleared his throat. Instantly the crowd below him stopped their conversation, and looked up. The loud clattering had faded away, turning into a small muttering.  
  
Lyon began to speak, his voice magnified. "I'm sorry to have to announce this now, in this way, but there is no other choice.  
  
"I remind you that the following is classified…now then…Shore leave has been cancelled." He stopped to allow the crowd to murmur, avoiding talking over them, then he continued. "On Stardate 53000, an object from…unknown origins entered through what we believe to be a small, self made wormhole. The object then, without provocation or warning, destroyed the Archer Observatory with one strike. Since that time, the object has begun to accelerate on it's course…straight for the Sun of Sector 001.  
  
"Over the course of the last month, we have researched the object, but have found no weaknesses…indeed, it is not responding to almost anything we attempt. And it has begun to move faster, and will reach Sector 001 in a few weeks.  
  
"Therefore, it is imperative that a strike force be launched, to intercept and destroy the object. The Maximillian is the only ship in range at this point to meet up with the task force, which is gathering at the entrance to Sector 9654. Later more ships will assist if we require them, and we will attempt to uncover it's motives and reasons for destroying Archer Observatory and it's purpose in heading toward Earth Space.  
  
"I am well aware of what this ship has been through, that it is overdue for a refit, that you all ready for shore leave…but there is no other way. The U.S.S. Maximillian must meet this challenge to the Federation, and I know in my heart that you will be ready to face whatever awaits us. I will be accompanying the task force, as well as Admirals Blobbin and T'Kill. Further details will be made available to you. Godspeed." Lyon stopped, took a breath, and walked away from the makeshift podium as the murmurs began again…and thought about everything… 


	3. Direct Course

DIRECT COURSE  
  
3 DAYS AFTER THE LAUNCH OF THE MAXIMILLIAN  
  
The object moved through space silently and quickly, at speeds measured at approaching Warp 8, and it had kept that speed for upwards of two weeks now, with no variation in course. It appeared that wherever it was heading, it had locked in the most efficient plan, and was intent on keeping to it. Already it had destroyed the observatory, and soon it would enter an asteroid field. Trailing it closely was a bizarre mix of the Alpha Quadrant's inhabitants. Three Klingon bird-of-prey, a Romulan Warbird, and a Gorn vessel...all had linked up with the invader recently, and they knew they could not keep the constant speed that the object did forever, lest they be destroyed by their own lack of foresight. In a way, the heads of ships felt, it was fortunate that the object would soon reach populated sectors of the quadrant, where reinforcements would be given.  
  
The Commander of the lead Klingon vessel sat waiting in his chair, impatiently. He itched to fire weapons, to do something rather than to just sit and wait. As the Observatory was officially termed a Federation outpost, the ruling was to let the 'feddies' handle it, but Ambassador Worf, briefed on the information, had recommended some form of 'escort' for the object, while the course was plotted out. The reasons for the Gorn and Romulans being present were yet unknown, possibly a result of an itchy trigger finger feeling throughout the quadrant. After the Borg, Dominion, and Borg again and again, everyone was at their wits end, each expecting another threat to their own respective sovereignty in the Alpha Quadrant. And everyone wanted the threat to be eliminated as quick as possible.  
  
He sighed when he thought about the Maximillian coming. His ship, his proud ship, needed no rescue and no protector! It could have been worse, he supposed, it could have been the Enterprise. Last thing they needed was a lot of negotiation and talk.  
  
On the Romulan ship, all was silent, waiting for the next move. The Gorn ship was no different. After hearing how easily the Observatory was destroyed, and with the fact that this ship was a stranger to the Galaxy, possibly to the universe if the mind ran wild enough, no-one was eager to make the first answering shot. The Klingon Commander considered this and let a smile creep across his face. Yes...better to let the Federation take the first losses, and he and the K'pak would swoop in and save their pathetic race. It was a bit easier to be patient now, although the warrior inside him screamed for vengeance for the dozen or so representatives of the Klingon Empire at the Observatory.  
  
They continued to follow the ship by eyesight only, for sensors still could not detect the vessel moving so fast in front of them. It was a stroke of luck that it did not seem to fear them...or could it not detect them as well? It's course made it easier to plot, though so far no-one had been able to figure it out, for their current straight course would take them out of the quadrant, and out of the galaxy, without encountering anything larger than a small moon, and that was of an uninhabited world outside the Alpha Quadrant. Were they a lost ship, or was it a weapon from long ago, destined to wander the cosmos for as long as it's power would hold out?  
  
No-one knew, and for now, it was not for them to know. It didn't make it any easier though.  
  
Elsewhere, the U.S.S. Maximillian sped towards their destination at Maximum warp, and would meet the object and it's 'escorts' in a few days. Captain S'Quid Tai Septaric stood alone in Stellar Cartography, a truly amazing room where the stars and planets themselves came alive all around the viewer, a sort of enhanced holodeck where you could find anything in the Galaxy...or plot it. Captain Septaric, one the only Klingons commanding ships in the Federation, was playing a hunch, using her limited  
  
knowledge of the vessel and it's capabilities. She knew it was flying in a straight path, knew it had been doing so ever since it had entered our universe, but what she was looking for was the small, overlooked details.  
  
She had been doing this for 5 hours now, as she was not on duty, her First Officer and bridge crew were more than capable of running this ship without her, especially with the esteemed Admirals on board, who were in mostly separate corners of the ship. FADM Robert S. Lyon was trying to play an ancient Earth game of finance, "Monopoly", against his Adjutant, LCDR Critch Starblade. And losing. Badly. RADM Turok T'Kill was trying to sleep. RADM Blobbin was not letting him. And so it had gone for the days since the launch.  
  
She closed her eyes and commanded herself to focus, and commanded the program to return to it's beginning, and to zoom in on the object as far as possible. She asked the computer to give her a readout as it moved, and it did so, giving an explanation of every change.  
  
"No Change. No Change. No Change."  
  
Another hour passed. Septaric was about to give it up and get some much needed sleep, when it happened.  
  
"No Change. No Change. Z Axis down. .0006 degrees, No Change…"  
  
"What? Explain the drop."  
  
"No change on part of the vessel, depreciation due to slight gravity well."  
  
That was what they were all missing. The craft wasn't going straight, it was on a course to be steered exactly where it wanted to go...and that was…  
  
"Computer, take all depreciations along the course into effect, what will be the final destination?"  
  
"Plotting…" It took a minute, and she still wasn't prepared for the answer.  
  
"Object will impact with Sun in Sector 001."  
  
That was it.   
  
It was heading for Earth. 


	4. Contact

Editor's note: The following story takes place 3 years ago, the members of the crew are accurate to that timeframe, and I hope this story will explain the differences in crew from there and now. Due to popular demand however, there is also a new story starting up in the next issue that takes place in the present day. Think of this as the 'pilot' episode, and the other story as the ongoing series.  
  
Star Trek: Maximillian  
  
Beyond the Final Frontier  
  
Chapter Four: Contact  
  
What has come before:  
  
A mysterious and undetectable object has emerged into the far reaches of the Alpha Quadrant, and has fired the first shots in what could result in an intergalactic war. To make matters worse, this unpredictable adversary has set it's target on sector 001. Earth.  
  
A Battle-weary federation, already half destroyed from the losses from the Dominion and Borg incursions, has sent one ship to meet up with a small task force escorting the object through space. The U.S.S. Maximillian, newly captained by Captain S'quid Tai Septaric, and her first officer Kragnar, have just arrived to the force the even now has itchy trigger fingers…  
  
"But Captain, surely you cannot expect…"  
  
It had gone on for hours now, the hastily agreed-to conference on board the Maximillian, and the heads of each vessel were there. The Captain of the K'Pak, the Klingon ship, and the loudest one there. The Romulan Commander Seral who glared at her associates, the strangely silent Gorn Captain Maktar, and of course, the Klingon Captain of the U.S.S. Maximillian, S'quid Tai Septaric. Silently sitting in the background were the three Admirals, Robert S. Lyon, Blobbin, and Turok T'Kill. They had offered nary a word, though Blobbin had wanted to chime in several times but thankfully for decorum was reigned in by the other Admirals, especially Turock, who eyed the Romulan with an uncertainty, for he himself was a half Romulan, and that half cried out for some sort of vengeance for those lost at the destroyed observatory. He was wary because he knew Seral's entire self also thirsted for this object's destruction, and while he didn't entirely deny that this thing needed destroying, he was wary of igniting a full scale war. Lyon was silent, overseeing everything, much as he had since he had arrived on board. Captain Septaric shook her head and interrupted the Klingon Captain T'Mar in mid-speech.  
  
"I expect you to do as you must, T'Mar, much as I and each of us will. As I have said many times before, however, the willful and unwarranted destruction of this object is not an option.  
  
Seral spoke quietly. "After it has already attacked us in our moment of peace?"  
  
"We do not know for sure what happened at the Observatory…it is possible that this could be a misunderstanding…" Septaric said slowly.  
  
"There is no misunderstanding murder, Captain Septaric. Many Klingon lines ended that day, and you now hide behind your precious Starfleet?" T'Mar pressed his point.  
  
"I am not hiding."  
  
"Then what are you doing? I know you…I know how your blood thirsts for revenge…as does mine. We all feel it here, even our Gorn."  
  
At the mention of his name, Maktar finally looked up, and stared at Septaric. "…I am ssssorry, Captain, but I cannot sssupport you on thissss. I am making the recommendation to declare war on thisss….whatever thissss isss."  
  
Seral spoke. "As am I."  
  
T'Mar simply looked at Septaric's unchanging face. "You are Klingon, and you still deny what is right?"  
  
Septaric faced him down. "I am Starfleet, and I will do what must be done. And the Maximillian is in charge here, despite your protests. From Ambassador Worf and Chancellor Martok themselves. If you won't listen to Starfleet, listen to yourselves."  
  
"Paah, Worf has been a puppet of the Federation for longer than I can remember, and he has drug Martok into it with him."  
  
"Nevertheless, my orders stand. Any ship attempting to attack the vessel will be committing an act of treason against this temporary agreement."  
  
"Then know this, Septaric. To attack my vessel will be the end of your days, and will ignite a war that will make the Dominion battles look like brushfires." With that, the Romulan, Klingon, and Gorn Captains left the briefing room, and after a minute, with a glare from Lyon, Blobbin and Turock left as well, Blobbin pudging out the door slowly.   
  
Lyon was silent for another moment, then finally spoke. "You did well."  
  
Septaric stood up angrily. "Not good enough, that should have been diffused easily."  
  
"Who could have? A Klingon, a Romulan, and a Gorn all in the same room with their minds made up facing down one Starfleet Captain…you expect too much."  
  
"I expect to solve problems."  
  
"And you do so well. Do you really think T'Mar will risk staring a war? Or Seral? Or the Gorn? You should know by now that just because one thing is said does not mean it will be done."  
  
With that said, the conn beeped. Septaric answered quickly. "Yes?"  
  
"You're needed on the bridge, Captain, the Klingon vessel is powering weapons."  
  
Septaric glared at Lyon as they walked briskly out of the room. "You were saying?"  
  
The Sovereign class Command deck is truly a sight to behold, at least it is when there is peace. But during times of stress and danger, it is a cluttered, ugly looking thing, with an eerie red glow, signifying a red alert that Captain Septaric had called the moment she stormed in, shining down over the chairs and the consoles. "Status?" Septaric called.  
  
LCDR Critch Starblade, a mysterious android that had joined the Federation only five years before after being found floating in space, answered, punching buttons on his console much faster than any human ever could have. "The K'Pak charged it's weapons, but has taken no further action. It looks like they're waiting for something…"  
  
Kragnar grunted. "Probably our challenge."  
  
Septaric nodded. "Well, if this was a Klingon ship, they would be atoms, but we are what we are, and that means stand down. We fire if, and only if, we have to."  
  
The Communications chief, LCDR Cynthia Ayers, suddenly spoke. "We are being hailed from the K'Pak."  
  
Septaric sat in her Command seat, and scowled at the viewer. "On screen."  
  
T'Mar scowled an equally fowl grimace at Septaric. "This is your last warning, Septaric. If you are not with us, then you are our enemy."  
  
Septaric fired back. "And this if your last warning as well, T'Mar. Power down or prepare to fight."  
  
In the end, it really didn't matter anyways.  
  
The Klingon vessel fired a photon torpedo as an act of defiance most likely, no-one would be able to say for sure after, and it sailed endlessly towards the object, and Septaric would later note in her log that she never felt so helpless in her life as when the shot neared it's target, the direct center of the crystal-like object. She closed her eyes on instinct when the shot hit…or rather, should have hit, for the torpedo flew through the object, as though it wasn't even there. This gave the Romulans and Gorn time to strike, and while all their shots were all exactly on target, as a credit to their aging ships, none of them hit the target itself, and instead all the shots did as the first, flying straight through the center and off into space, where the torpedoes would later explode harmlessly.  
  
Although there was no harm done to the object, it reacted angrily, firing it's heat phazer, for lack of a better term, simultaneously from 3 sides of the crystal, and all three hitting their targets, the Klingons, Romulans and Gorn. The phazer went through their shields as though they weren't up, and each ship instantly vaporized and exploded into dust. Only the Gorn cruiser was lucky enough to respond in any way, and even then it was only a sensor drone, designed specifically to return to the closest base, in this case Septarus 3, and deliver the logs and information needed from the ship that no longer was.  
  
Septaric and the rest of the bridge crew were stunned by this sudden display of firepower, and were even more stunned when a voice, without coming through the Comm systems, began speaking to them. It was a deep, masterful voice, and there was no doubt in Septaric's mind that it sounded entirely like Kahless himself.  
  
"You have been chosen as the Observers. You have been chosen for your wisdom in not attacking, and you will be rewarded by witnessing our conquest. You shall accompany us."  
  
Septaric's and the rest of the crew's eyes grew wide as the message ended, and then began to repeat itself. 


	5. Conflict

Star Trek: Maximillian  
  
Beyond the Final Frontier  
  
Chapter 5: Conflict  
  
What has come before:  
  
A mysterious and undetectable object has emerged into the far reaches of the Alpha Quadrant, and has fired the first shots in what could become an interstellar war. To make matters worse, this unpredictable adversary has set it's target as the sun of Sector 001. Sol.  
  
A Battle-weary Federation, already half destroyed from the losses against the Dominion and Borg incursions, has sent one ship to meet up with a small task force escorting the object through space. As they meet the object, a volley is fired from every ship but the Maximillian, and the object responds in kind, annihilating the other vessels but leaving the Maximillian unharmed. A communication comes through, charging the crew as 'observers'. And as the object moves toward Gorn space, the Maximillian has no choice but to follow…  
  
"I'm afraid I don't have any answers for you, yet. I have been in contact with Starfleet Command, and their orders are to continue the 'escort'."  
  
Captain S'Quid Tai Septaric spoke slowly and cautiously, careful not to let her emotions overwhelm her. As a Klingon, her blood cried out for vengeance, the destruction of the object, giving revenge for those Klingons already lost by the recent events. But she kept reminding herself that first and foremost, she had made a commitment to Starfleet, and she would abide by their laws and regulations before she succumbed to her base instincts.  
  
However, her first officer and brother, Commander Kragnar, did not share her opinions. "There is no time. We must find a way to destroy this…thing before it gets closer to our space."  
  
Septaric shook her head. "This can't get any more out of hand. This already has cost hundreds of lives, and my gut is that this isn't the object's fault."  
  
"How can it not be? Even if we forget the carnage that just occurred, the observatory was destroyed merely on a whim!" The rest of the Command Staff, finding it hard to get used to the Klingon 'discussion', sat quietly in their chairs. The Admirals in the room, Lyon and Morris, were biding their time until they were ready to step in, should things become out of control even further. Blobbin had decided to take this opportunity to oversee the bridge, and had done so with gusto, morphing his colors into a close approximation of a Roman Centurion, and had secretly replicated a whip, in case anyone on the bridge dared to question his authority. At this revelation, Lyon had grabbed the whip and cracked it at Blobbin, who then split into fifteen miniature Blobbins, stuck their tounges out at Lyon simultaneously, and then pudged away quickly. Morris made a mental note to find a punishment that didn't make Blobbin giggle, but so far nothing had worked as it had intended.   
  
Lyon allowed himself a chuckle, taking his mind off the seriousness of the situation, but his mind quickly returned to the object as he caught a glimpse of it out the window. He glared at it maddeningly, staring at it's familiar shape, and he allowed himself a quick memory, of his days as a Captain, into the unknown, taking up secret plans…He wrenched himself away from the window and back to the 'discussion'. There was no time for this.  
  
The argument continued. Septaric sighed as she spoke. "Their scans were invasive, they may have been perceived as a threat…"  
  
"And the destruction of hundreds would be allowed?"  
  
"We must find a way to answer them, to communicate. I will not.."  
  
"TALK? How many more ships, Sister? How many more bloodlines will end before you admit that the all mighty fleet's ideals have failed?" Kragnar stood up, and came around behind her, whispering in her ear. "I know you can feel it, sister. The call for vengeance, your bloodlust…You are Klingon…you must admit it to yourself…"  
  
"I will NOT base my decisions on personal feelings of anger. I base my decisions on fact. Right or wrong, I will continue on this route." Septaric let a bit of a growl, a small challenge enter her voice. She had come to realize that Kragnar was jeopardizing the mission, that choosing family for her 2nd in command may not have been the best idea…but they had worked so well together in the past! Knowing his anger, she decided to give him enough leeway to let it out, rather than face tougher times ahead. "Speak freely, brother."  
  
He stared at her, snarling as he spoke. "Then you are exactly what our family has said. You are another Worf…." He walked out of the room, and whispered to her under his breath. "You are a coward."  
  
She visibly recoiled at the accusation, and he had left after the seconds it took her to recover. Lyon chose this moment to finish the staff meeting.  
  
"I have also spoken to Starfleet…and am aware of their position on this matter. However, I believe they may not know what we are dealing with here. Therefore, I am issuing new orders. We will continue the 'escort', but we will work to find ways to detect the vessel…and destroy it, if this is the case." He scanned the crew, and was relieved that his businesslike closing had seemed to take most of the tension out of the room. He continued. "Captain Septaric, you will work closely with your crew to develop a way to scan them. Lieutenant Kelvok will head that team. Commander Kragnar will head up the team tasked to find options to destroy the vessel. Commander Starblade, you will work with me on a special operation: Trying to unlock what you know about this thing. Lieutenant Thomas, I need you to polish engineering up. We'll need every miniscule bit of power you can coax out of her." He stopped, pleased with his defusing of the situation.  
  
Septaric scanned the room. "You have your orders, dismissed." As she watched them quickly file out of the room, ready to get to work, she looked at Lyon.  
  
"I trust, Captain, that Kragnar can be reined in?" Admiral Lyon spoke, watching Admiral Morris silently move out of the room.  
  
Septaric nodded. "He's always had a temper…but a big fan of justice…but if he won't see my side of things…" She pounded the table with her fist.  
  
"He's not stupid, Captain. He will. He must. A ship needs a strong Command Staff." Lyon walked around the room, glancing at the gold ships, representing the past vessels. He idly ran his fingers over the Nebula-Class model as he spoke. "This ship has always had a family, Captain. We have always functioned as though we were one, and because of that togetherness we are all still alive." He continued on, staring at the model. "And if the family falls…so goes the ship." He closed his eyes, trying to drown out the past that threatened to overtake him. He breathed, and looked at Septaric.  
  
"Admiral…you said…that they don't know what we're dealing with…Admiral, what are we dealing with?"  
  
He pulled himself together and gave an easy answer, one that he had used many times before. "I can't say."  
  
"I can't do my job without knowing all the information there is to know, especially in a case like this. Is there something you're not telling me?"  
  
"…Let's just say it wouldn't change things, Captain." He nodded quickly, and then moved out the door, leaving Captain Septaric to stare at the object, moving silently, swiftly.  
  
And the Gorn worlds grew closer with every second…  
  
  
  
The lights were blinking, and the alarms were sounding. Yet all was clear in his mind. He was focused, and had drowned out everything, including the yelling of the Admiral, rushing towards his station. There was no reward without risk,, he had heard somewhere. And the rewards mankind, indeed the whole universe, would receive from this simple act of defiance, would far outweigh the risks to himself, or this tiny station…  
  
The white light on the screen was blinding, and the darkness came to claim the Captain…  
  
The young Captain Lyon. 


	6. Preparation

P R E P A R A T I O N  
  
What has Come Before…  
  
A mysterious object has appeared in the Alpha Quadrant, heading straight for Earth. The U.S.S. Maximillian has been sent as the Federation's representative to 'escort' the object, and find out it's true motives. After the Destruction of Klingon, Romulan, and Gorn Vessels, the Maximillian is forced to witness the Gorn Homeworld's Destruction.  
  
Unless the brave crew can somehow find a way to disable the object first…  
  
Critch Starblade paced outside the window of the deserted sickbay. CMO Nathan Cobaugh was in another area of the ship, preparing for a possible upcoming battle, leaving the normally full or at least busy rooms empty. At least it was empty until the android heard the door 'shish' open, and he glanced back and saw Admiral Lyon walk in, and sit on one of the beds.  
  
Critch turned back around, and resumed his pacing. Lyon appraised this, and supposed he would have to broach the subject he had been dreading. "Why are the lights off, Commander?"  
  
Critch sighed. "I don't need lights to see, Admiral. And it's more peaceful, I can try to think."  
  
Lyon laughed softly to himself. "We both know that you don't have any problems thinking, Commander. Your brain power is off any charts we've tried to measure. At least, your untapped power is. The power that you choose to use is still significant, however."  
  
"I don't 'choose' to use anything, Admiral. I know my capabilities and abilities, and I do them. Far better than any other Android your…our fleet can come up with, I might add."  
  
"True." Lyon rose. "But you are capable of so much more. We've all looked at your architecture, Critch. There is no scientific reason why so much of your power is not being accessed." He stopped, next to Critch, now looking at the same thing the young-looking Android was looking at: The strange, crystal-like object that had caused so many problems of late. "Or why you can't remember anything about your past, but your name."  
  
Critch was silent for a moment. "Don't you think I've been trying, Rob?" He walked away from the window. "Since the day you reactivated me, since you found me, I've done everything you recommended. Joining your Starfleet, Getting on the Maximillian, Even Operations was originally your idea. But none of this…" He gestured around the room. "None of this has sparked anything close to a memory, not even a familiarity. It's like I'm not even from this galaxy."  
  
"Stay the course, Critch. I've never steered you wrong yet, have I?"  
  
Critch walked back to the window, pacing again. "No…of course not. The almighty Grand Poobah Admiral Rob, never makes mistakes. Never has, never will."  
  
Lyon smiled, a bit sadly, and looked down. "If only that were true, Critch, if only."  
  
Critch pretended not to hear him. "But it's weird. Nothing's familiar…except that. I can look around here and see everything there is and nothing registers…But that ship..that shape…I almost can remember it…do you know how frustrating that is? To be so close to something so monumental?"  
  
Lyon nodded. "I can only imagine. And that's why we need your help, possibly beyond anyone else on the ship."  
  
Critch shook his head. "I don't know, Rob, I'm just Operations. I push the buttons. The real thinking is for the engineers. Go ask Amy, she'll.."  
  
"Lieutenant Thomas is capable, but she's missing the senses you have. All I ask is for you to look, Critch. Look at the thing, see if there's anything you can see."  
  
"Fine."  
  
Robert Lyon rose to leave, and looked back as he walked out of the room. "And look quickly, Commander. We arrive at the homeworld in roughly an hour."  
  
"Captain." Commander Kragnar spoke quickly.  
  
The engineering bay of the Maximillian was busier than usual, as the entire ship was in preparation for the coming battle. To the young Lieutenant Thomas in charge of Engineering, it seemed a quite daunting task, especially since it appeared that the other vessel was invincible, but the Captain's presence there alleviated her fears, just as the Commander's presence did not.  
  
She watched as the Commander and Captain spoke, a somewhat courteous discussion, which was surprising considering they were both Klingons. She tried not to appear obvious as she continued adjusting the warp engine, even as she inched closer to the pair.  
  
"Kragnar, it's not that I don't agree with you, it's that we are forced to abide by another set of rules here."  
  
"I do understand that, S'Quid. I fear my honor speaks ahead of me."  
  
"As it always has, brother. And it always will, I fear."  
  
It was incredible to her how just a few moments before they had been at each others necks, and now here they were, apologizing. Klingons apologizing. She shook her head as she realized she had to make some corrections on another deck. As she left Engineering, handing control over temporarily to a frightened looking Ensign, she supposed that it was the ship that made the bonds of family so strong. Whether blood or not.  
  
"Have you told him anything at all?" Admiral Turok T'Kill asked, exasperated.  
  
Admiral Lyon shook his head, as Admiral Blobbin formed his mercury self into the shape of the lawn chair he was lounging in, transformed colors to a bright green, and began snoring. The three Admirals, all former Captains of Starships Maximillian, though Blobbin's time was very short, were on a beach, somewhere in the Middle East of Earth, in an earlier century. "I know what you're going to say, You don't…"  
  
"Like it. And I don't, Rob. He's going to find out sooner or later what he is, what you've done…"  
  
Blobbin woke enough to blurt out a "Not the Cantaloupe…" And fell back to sleep.  
  
"I haven't done anything, Turok. Gave him a little push, that's all."  
  
"You've decided his entire career for him!"  
  
"He hasn't done anything he hasn't wanted to do, Turok. If he wanted to leave, all he'd had to do is go. I wouldn't have stopped him. Not that I could have."  
  
Turok glared at him, then kicked some sand off into the distance. "Why do we always come here, anyway? We could be at a Steelers Game, or anywhere in history…why always the sand and the hot and the…"  
  
Lyon leaned back into the folded-out lounge chair. "When you're commissioner, you make the rules. As to Commander Starblade….Only he can figure out his destiny. All we can do is help him make the right decision when the time comes…"  
  
Lieutenant Commander Critch Starblade rushed out in the hallway, nearly knocking over Lieutenant Thomas in the process. "Amy, I've got it!"  
  
"Got what?"  
  
"Ro..Admiral Lyon was right! He told me to look and I SAW! I had noticed the ship was just a little fuzzy, and I thought that was normal, until I adjusted my opticals…I know why we can't detect them!"   
  
LT Thomas took a moment. "Ok, why?"  
  
"Different frequencies! They're not from our universe…All we have to do is match ourselves up!"  
  
"Critch, you're a genius!"  
  
He smiled, allowing hope to enter his mind. "I know." 


	7. Planning

STAR TREK MAXIMILLIAN BEYOND THE FINAL FRONTIER  
  
CHAPTER SIX  
  
PLANNING  
  
What has come before…  
  
An Observatory has been destroyed by an object yet unknown to the Federation, and it has began a long journey to the heart of the Alpha Quadrant. The U.S.S. Maximillian, weary from a trying mission in the Menkare Expanse, and with an untested Captain, is the sole survivor of a small task force organized to halt the invasion, and has been charged with accompanying the ship to it's final destination, which now appears to be deep in Gorn space, following a small probe launched shortly before it's owner was destroyed…  
  
But Lieutenant Commander Critch Starblade has a plan, but one that he must be a part of, for reasons only he knows…  
  
Stellar Cartography was very crowded, with three Admirals, the Captain and her first officer, who in a startling case of it being a small universe was also her brother, also the Science Officer Kelvok, a Vulcan, LCDR Starblade, LT Amy Armstrong Thomas, the Chief Engineer, and two crew members that, although not being official members of the Command Staff, were allowed in due to their history with these matters. LCDR Tamak, a Vulcan who had been Captain until an unfortunate incident involving Time Travel and the 'pon farr' mating ritual (As seen in the as yet unwritten "Amok Tamak") Brought him before a review, and LCDR Korjak, the head of the Rapid Response Unit, the Maximillian's equivalent of the Starfleet Marines. Yet all were strangely on edge as they entered and stood at ease in the large room. Admiral Blobbin, an Erseddorian (Don't ask) stood next to the Romulan Admiral Turok T'Kill, and after a minute, formed a hand out of his mercury being and pointed straight up and said, in a loud, wispy and obnoxious voice, 'oooo, pretty colors'. At that point Turok elbowed him in the side. The mercury pudged in and out and formed a large elbow that nudged Turok back. This display went on for a moment until Admiral Lyon gave the both of them a dark stare. T'Kill snapped to attention, and Blobbin gave Lyon a large grin. Lyon ignored him as he began.  
  
"This is the present location of the object." The panoramic screen in front of them showed a pulsating blue dot, followed by a computer modeled version of the Maximillian. "We are currently moving at Warp 3.2 and slowing at the rate at .1 per minute. Apparently, we're getting close to where we're going.  
  
"It should be noted that at the current rate of speed, we will enter Gorn space in under fifteen minutes. The destructive capabilities of the object are considered to be far greater than the Gorn defenses, and the defenses of the object are at an unheard of level. Therefore, attacking from the outside is not an option. We must attack from within. Commander?"  
  
Starblade began to speak. "Thank you, Admiral. As I have informed Captain Septaric and Admiral Lyon, I have developed a way to transport aboard the object. It involves temporarily changing our Resonance Frequencies, using the transporters, in order to exist within their vessel, whoever 'they' may be. A small military force will transport over, disable the vessel, and get out of there. Questions?"  
  
Science officer Kelvok raised an eyebrow. "Have you considered the risk of beaming into an area of solid matter?"  
  
Tamak followed up. "An astute observation. How are we to know the other vessel is constructed?"  
  
Starblade nodded. "I assure both of you that the logical steps have been taken. After informing Captain Septaric…" He nodded in her direction. "Of my plans, I transported a small probe over, and not only confirmed that it could be done, but also received schematics of the entire vessel, which consists of only a few small rooms."  
  
"So what's the plan?" Admiral T'Kill asked impatiently.  
  
Critch turned away from the plans to face his audience. "The plan, Admiral," As Starblade spoke, the schematics faded away to show a small group of dots in a large room. The dots moved across a long skinny bridge to a large cylinder, stayed there for a moment, then disappeared as the room filled with a white light. "We get in, disable their shielding, weapons, and engines, and get out. Simple, quick, effective, and leaves us in a far better place to negotiate. Lieutenant Korjak, are your men ready?"  
  
The Klingon snarled. "Not as ready as I am."  
  
"Then with the Captain's permission…" She nodded. "All right then, let's do this." As Korjak headed off, Critch called to him. "I'll be down in a minute." Admiral Lyon's eyes widened at this, as Starblade spoke to Tamak. Lyon strode up to Critch as Captain Septaric attempted to ask him a question, but he ignored her as he passed her by and neared his destination.  
  
"I suggest you go too, Tamak, since you're Chief Security Wizard around here." Critch was saying.  
  
"I assure you I know no forms of Magic, Mr. Starblade."  
  
"Ok…then at least you can see some fascinating things over there with us. Technology from a completely different universe! Just imagine…"   
  
"…Interesting." Tamak allowed.  
  
Lyon cleared his throat. Tamak glanced at him. "Commander, I believe I should be going."  
  
As Tamak walked off, Lyon looked at Starblade.  "Commander, a word please."  Critch called to LT Thomas, who was waiting for him.  "I'll be out in a moment, Amy."  He turned back to Lyon.  "What can I do for you, Admiral?"   
  
    "You still insist on accompanying them?"   
  
    "Of course, it was my idea, and they will benefit from my years of experience."   
  
    "Most of which you cannot remember."   
  
    "I have my instincts, they'll be enough."   
  
    "I think you're underestimating their capabilities..."   
  
    "I'm not underestimating them, you're overestimating them!"   
  
    Lyon waiting a moment, allowing Starblade to calm down.  "...I cannot allow you to join the away mission, Commander.  Your place is on board this ship.  I have no desire to risk you on a probable suicide mission."   
  
    "If this is such a bad idea, then why did you allow it to go ahead?"   
  
    "They will fail, and return.  I am not the Captain of this ship..."   
  
    "And you command us like you were!"   
  
    "Are you questioning my authority, LIEUTENANT Commander?"   
  
    "No sir, but since this my mission..."   
  
    "I am aware of your purposes in going, yet I am unconvinced your purpose is sound."   
  
    "...I go to stop this thing, what else is there?"   
  
    "We both know why you want to go."   
  
    "...Then you know why I have to go."   
  
    "I'm not risking losing anyone else to this thing."   
  
    "You're scared of me dying?"  Critch asked with a smirk.   
  
    "No, Critch, I'm not."  Lyon gave Critch a piercing stare.  "Part of your ego is well placed, however annoying it may be.  You represent a technology at levels unheard of to the Federation, and are invaluable to this crew.  What I am afraid of, is you embarking on a quest that could endanger everything we can imagine!"   
  
    "That won't happen."   
  
    "That is correct, Critch.  As of this time, you are confined to quarters until the end of this mission.  I am sorry."   
  
    Critch Starblade looked defiantly at Robert Lyon.  "I am too."   
  
    "I know how you must..."   
  
    "You don't know anything about this!  Do you think I can just let this go?  Starfleet, the Maximillian, they are NOT my past, THIS is my past!  How can you deny this to me?"   
  
    "Critch, you had a choice when you were reactivated.  You could have done anything you wanted to do, gone anywhere you wanted to go, but you chose Starfleet.  You chose to end up on a Starship, and did not seek the Captaincy when it became available.  Like it or not, Commander, you are not in charge here."   
  
    Critch just looked at him blankly.  "I was under the impression that Captain Septaric was in charge here.  Looks like I was wrong."  Before Lyon could react, Critch stormed off. 


	8. Red Alert

Star Trek: Maximillian  
  
BEYOND THE FINAL FRONTIER  
  
Chapter Seven  
  
R E D A L E R T  
  
Written by Chris Stephenson  
  
   
  
Editors Note:  This story is a serial novel, taking place about 3 years ago, using characters that served on the Maximillian at that point in time. New chapters can be found monthly in "The Mighty Max" and online at http://www.maximillian.org. Past chapters can also be found at Maximillian.org.     
  
What has come before…  
  
An Observatory has been destroyed by an object yet unknown to the Federation, and it has began a long journey to the heart of the Alpha Quadrant. The U.S.S. Maximillian, weary from a trying mission in the Menkare Expanse, and with an untested Captain, is the sole survivor of a small task force organized to halt the invasion, and has been charged with accompanying the ship to it's final destination, which now appears to be deep in Gorn space, following a small probe launched shortly before it's owner was destroyed…  
  
But Lieutenant Commander Critch Starblade has a plan, but one that he must be a part of, for reasons only he knows…  
  
The Outermost Gorn defenses, sadly, did not hold up for very long.  
  
Despite their outward appearances, the Gorn mostly tend to guard their own borders, not wishing to conquer other civilizations, nor to join with them. It was something of a surprise that the Gorn ship had ever agreed to join in the short-lived alliance in the first place, and now it seemed to be a drastic mistake. The probe, sent out by the ship mere seconds before it's destruction, had went right for the direction of Gorn space; right in the direction of it's homeworld. It was a simple matter for the crystal shaped vessel to follow.  
  
The defenses, such as they were, as the Gorn were easily overlooked by any space-faring race that were eager for conquest, consisted of a few well-past their time vessels, captained by disgraced leaders who should have retired long ago, and a small minefield. None of which did any damage to the intruding ship, which simply destroyed the attacking ships, and went on it's way, continuing it's voyage to the inner reaches of Gorn space.  
  
The one ship that had survived the brief alliance of Klingons, Gorn, and Federation followed closely behind, having been tasked by the unseen leader of the vessel to be merely an observer, to see what would happen if anyone dared oppose it's grand plan, which at this point was unknown. All that was known was that it was originally headed straight for Sector 001, for an apparent meeting at Earth. And as had been seen with other attacking cultures throughout the years, the Xindi, the Breen, The Borg…that was never a good thing to have happen.  
  
The U.S.S. Maximillian, housing possibly the most eclectic mix of races in all of Starfleet, looked silent and sleeping from the exterior of the vessel. But on the inside, it was a different story. Holding it off as long as she possibly could, Captain Septaric finally called for the red alert signal as they entered Gorn space, now knowing that there was no way a fight could be avoided, though she still hoped for peace, however it could be possible. Her brother, First Officer Kragnar, did not share her opinions of peace. A true Klingon warrior, he could not stomach the past destruction this mysterious vessel had caused. All the Klingon bloodlines ended for no apparent reason, to say nothing of the other honorable beings that had died for no purpose, only seemingly to satisfy an unquenchable bloodlust of an unseen adversary. It made Kragnar's own blood boil just thinking of it. The only thing that seemed to satisfy him, at least for the moment, was that soon, his dear sister would see the folly of her ways. And then glorious conquest would be had.  
  
They occupied the bridge, occupied in a pulsing glow of red, and accompanied by the remainder of the bridge crew, Lieutenant Commander Tamak, a former Captain, who was head of Security, and Lieutenant Kelvok, a Vulcan along with Tamak, head of Science. Lieutenant Commander Critch Starblade, an Android but not of the Soong variety, chief of Operations, stood, attempting to improve the efficiency of "The Mighty Max's" warpfield, in case of a need for a quick escape. He had been confined to quarters, but Captain Septaric needed him to come to the bridge for a moment, and his return had been forgotten. But his mind was also seething with a new anger, and of regret for a lost opportunity. And suddenly, of new plans forming. Suddenly all his power was focused on making a new opportunity for himself. He allowed a small smile as he realized that it would be simple, especially during this time of stress.  
  
Chief Engineer Amy Armstrong Thomas was working alongside Critch, but did not notice his hesitation, so engrossed in her own work. She was stressed, and not a little worried. She was young, and though she had witnessed not a few battles with the Maximillian, it always got her brain working and her heart pounding.   
  
It wasn't just officers on the ship. So great was the apparent need that the three Admirals most often identified with the ship had accompanied it on it's mission. Admiral Robert Lyon, from Earth, stood gazing over the ship, still halfway considering it to be his ship, though the last time a Maximillian had been truly his, it had been lost. He looked at the Captain's chair with a twinge of regret, knowing deep in his heart that Captain Septaric was too inexperienced to be able to command a ship of this size. The Sovereign vessels were Starfleet's flagships! An untested Captain should never have been allowed to take this job! Not that he didn't respect her abilities, or her drive. But this was beyond her…beyond any of them.  
  
Admiral Turok T'Kill, whose main job so far had been to keep his fellow Errsedorian Mercury-based Admiral Blobbin in line, understood the strife that was occurring within his oldest friend. But he knew the chain of command must be followed, to whatever end. A Romulan, which was a rare thing among the fleet, he knew better than most what could happen when anarchy reigned.  
  
Blobbin didn't much like Red alerts. Though he didn't dislike battle, anything that gave him the excuse to march, or pudge, as the case may be, headlong into a melee, Mercury-formed sword in hand was okay with him, he didn't like the red shined off his silver form. And no matter with color he morphed into, the colors still weren't coming off quite right. He decided to lighten the mood, and morphed his head to something comparable to an old police light, a spinning red and blue light, and prepared to emit a shrill ambulance-style siren. As his mouth moved, T'kill covered it quickly with a hand. In response, Blobbin formed several mouths, and continued, until Lyon held up a hand. Blobbin stopped, dejected again. What was it with these people, anyway? A mood lightening is exactly what's called for in these stressful situations!   
  
T'Kill glanced between the other two Admirals, and wondered why Blobbin aggravated him so much, why his commands were simply suggestions, and why Lyon's orders were to be followed quickly. Unknown to T'Kill, Lyon knew Blobbin's one weakness, one fear, and one that Lyon was not afraid to use at any time.  
  
Promotion.  
  
As the command structure watched nervously the crystalline form on the screen, their expressions ranged from worry to anger to hope to despair. All of them focused on this one, possibly final adventure. None of them noticing as Critch Starblade slipped out of the room into the adjacent turbolift, commanding it to his level. He had to make one last check before he could put his plans into motion. He had to be sure…  
  
It was roughly fifteen minutes before anyone noticed Critch's departure, and even then it wasn't taken with any great emergency or panic. It was assumed that he had returned to his quarters, where Admiral Lyon had ordered him. There was still about ten minutes before the ship would reach the Gorn homeworld, before the largest part of the Gorn fleet would engage the seemingly indestructible ship in defense of their home. Amy looked up from her console, as it went into auto mode, finishing up her work for her. As it would take a few moments for it to complete, she asked for and received permission to check on Critch. As she left, Admiral Lyon felt regret that Critch would not have a chance to find out what he had been searching for all this time. It was maddening, in a way. But he supposed that would keep his mind active, and would serve him well in his later career. Assuming, of course, any of them survived this.  
  
The security officers that were undertaking the risky mission of beaming over to the other ship were all supposed to have gathered three minutes before, but the young ensign, who was cursing himself for having volunteered for this mission, considering that his first choice when he joined the ship was Operations. But, he also wanted to help the ship, so Security was a good secondary choice for now. He wasn't planning on any of this, and had managed to have several problems with the protective outfit that he had been assigned. But he knew that they were waiting. Korjac, the Klingon in charge of the "Rapid Response unit", wasn't too happy about this. But there was time. As he ran through the corridor, he suddenly realized there was a figure in front of him. He couldn't make out the face, only that there seemed to be something pointing in his direction. Then a bright light, and he couldn't make out anything at all.  
  
It was curious that there was no answer at Critch's door, Amy thought to herself. He usually was happy to see guests, even if he was in a bad mood. Something was definitely bothering him. She decided to ignore protocol, and follow a sinking feeling that Critch was in trouble, or worse. She used her Engineering override, and entered the room. The lights were off, and Critch wasn't home. A quick scan around the room revealed only one thing out of place. A single padd, laying on his bed. She went to it, picking it up, reading it over quickly. The padd had on it details of Critch's original discovery, by the U.S.S. Asimov, a science ship, amongst wreckage of an unknown starship, a ship so destroyed that they still had not been unable to identify it to this day. There were diagrams of the ship, and she looked over them, and instantly she knew. The ship on the viewscreen. The ship that had destroyed the Observatory, the Klingons, the Gorn, the ship they had been following…and the ship that had brought Critch to this quadrant.  
  
They were the same ship.  
  
Suddenly in a panic, she ran out of the room, trying to tap her commbadge quickly. She knew it was too late, he'd have thought of that. Indeed, entering Critch's room had seemed to trigger some kind of silent, unseen Electromagnetic pulse that had knocked out the electronics throughout this deck, as she found out quickly when all she heard was static over the intercom. And all she saw was darkness. Thinking quickly, she overrode a nearby duct, and climbed inside.  
  
  
  
In the unconscious ensign's outfit, a little snug but none the worse for wear, he quickly arrived at the transporter room, marching in. He nodded at the seething Klingon, his own helmet open. Korjak muttered a "I'll deal with you later" then looked at the transporter chief.  
  
Amy Armstrong Thomas dove out of the duct, racing down the hall, hoping desperately that she wasn't too late. She ran into the transporter room just as Korjak growled, "Energize". As they beamed out, Amy yelled, "Critch!" The android in Ensign's clothes looked at her, staring, as they disappeared in a blaze of blue and stars. 


	9. Attack

Star Trek:   
  
Maximillian  
  
BEYOND THE FINAL   
  
FRONTIER  
  
Chapter Eight   
  
A T T A C K  
  
Written by Chris Stephenson  
  
   
  
Editors Note:  This story is a serial novel, taking place about 3 years ago, using characters that served on the Maximillian at that point in time. New chapters can be found monthly in "The Mighty Max" and online at Maximillian.org Past chapters can also be found at Maximillian.org.     
  
What has come before…  
  
An Observatory has been destroyed by an object yet unknown to the Federation, and it has began a long journey to the heart of the Alpha Quadrant. The U.S.S. Maximillian, weary from a trying mission in the Menkare Expanse, and with an untested Captain, is the sole survivor of a small task force organized to halt the invasion, and has been charged with accompanying the ship to it's final destination, which now appears to be deep in Gorn space, following a small probe launched shortly before it's owner was destroyed…  
  
But Lieutenant Commander Critch Starblade has a plan, but one that he must be a part of, for reasons only he knows. He has disguised himself and snuck aboard a complicated away mission to the craft, and only the young chief engineer knows of this.  
  
The attack, is about to begin…  
  
Lieutenant Amy Armstrong Thomas burst onto the bridge, forgetting decorum and protocol for a moment. "Captain!"  
  
Startled for a beat, Captain Septaric looked up at the young chief engineer, frowning. "Lieutenant?"  
  
"It's Critch! He went with the away team!"  
  
Septaric frowned, and Admiral Lyon ran his hand down his face. He knew he should have expected something like this, knew that Starblade wouldn't let it go. He expected no less of him. Before he could react, Septaric had already begun barking orders. "Communications, contact the away team and inform them. Lieutenant…"  
  
"Belay that!" Admiral Lyon could wait no longer. "Return to your post, Lieutenant. We cannot contact the away team. We can't risk alerting the enemy to our plans."   
  
"Admiral…"  
  
"I know, Captain…but we..." They were interrupted by a flash of green light from the view screen. Surprisingly, the firing didn't begin with the object.  
  
A entire armada of Gorn warships had advanced on the object, already aware of it's apparent intentions. They knew that it had destroyed the ships, knew that it had destroyed everything, everything except for the one Federation ship that followed it's every move. Despite the recorded messages broadcasting from the Maximillian, they were not convinced that the Federation was innocent in this, indeed they would deal with them in due time, as soon as the interloper was disposed of. Their ships had simultaneously fired their versions of torpedoes at the vessel. Not too suprisingly, the torpedoes had went straight through the vessel, not impacting on anything, exploding harmlessly behind it, as the Maximillian had quickly moved out of their way.  
  
Nonplussed, another volley of torpedoes were fired from the ships. But this time, they were detonated early. The shockwave from the explosions seemed to affect the ship, as it drifted backwards a bit, seemingly shaken. The crews of the armada seemed to take this as a moral victory, and the fleet advanced on the ship. Eighty-seven Gorn ships of varying size and power moved towards the apparently weakened Crystal-shaped vessel. It seemed to be a masterful tactical move.  
  
Instead, it proved to be a costly mistake.  
  
The Crystal opened up, firing it's white light beams with deadly precision, slicing through Gorn ships like a knife through butter. Shielding seemed to be non-existent. Their well constructed hulls were vaporized instantly. Over a course of less than a Earth-standard minute every ship in the sizable armada was reduced to nothing but dust and memory. And the crystal vessel was still visibly unscarred.  
  
Inside the "Mighty Max", a stunned look came over the bridge crew. Captain Septaric was giving orders to the crew to prepare should it turn it's aggression upon them. Lyon shook his head. Critch was on his own now. He stared at the viewscreen, at the shining crystal that now advanced past the ring of moons and towards the planet, and whispered solemnly to himself.  
  
"What have I done?"  
  
  
  
The away team appeared in a blaze of blue and stars inside a small alcove. Korjak, leader of the rapid response team, could not see outside of it, but assumed that due to the size of the ship, it would be very cramped. The other members of the team, began to pull out their tricorders, scanning for other signs of life, and the power source of the ship. They began to leave the alcove, moving out into a hallway, walking slowly. The interior of the vessel was an unexpected, mainly brown connection of grated railways and wall plating. A very low-tech look for such a powerful ship.  
  
Korjak was scanning the hallway when he noticed a peculiar reading. One of his men wasn't reading correctly. Instead of coming up as a human, the lone figure silently following his group matched the physiology of…  
  
"Commander Starblade." Korjak said silently. "I was under the impression you would not be joining us."  
  
Critch stopped, having known that his ruse would not succeed long once they reached their destination, and removed the helmet of his protective suit. "I'm sorry for the deception, Commander."  
  
"Return to the Maximillian."  
  
The attack had begun. Very faint noises, obviously explosions of Gorn ships, could be heard. Also a faint rustling, which was ignored.  
  
"I can't do that, Commander. It's a miracle we haven't been detected already. A beam-out would be like sounding the alarm!"  
  
Korjak prepared his answer as one of his Majors stepped out of the hallway. It was a moment before the Major could say anything, then she finally spoke. "Not to interrupt anything, but…" Korjak looked up, and walked out of the hallway. The rest of the team followed.  
  
What they saw was surprising, and humbled all of them. The ship, at least on the inside, seemed to go on forever! The hallway had opened up to a impossibly large room, extending for miles upon miles. Brown piping, grating, and a coating of dust made up the ship, along with infrequent panels, with unintelligible writing. Even Critch, approaching one, could not make anything out, despite attempting to match up the symbols, which appeared more like scratch marks than anything else, with every known language in his database.  
  
"How…how is this possible?" Korjak, forgetting his normal Klingon persona, showed his awe at the sight.  
  
The Major was far in front of them now, scanning the room. Looking up, she, and then the rest of the team, saw that there seemed to be no ceiling, and they could see everything happening on the exterior. They saw Gorn ships blasting at the ship, and were startled when a series of photon torpedoes seemed to come into the ship itself. They passed through, one right in between Critch and Korjak, and harmlessly through the floor, and presumably through the other side of the ship. The Major, shaking, tried to explain it.   
  
"This ship…everything here has to be in some kind of pocket universe…or it could be just based on a different set of physics than the exterior…someone found a way to change something…Or with the different frequencies…" She stopped, and tapped her tricorder. "I'm getting a lot of interference. Something isn't meshing well with the instruments."  
  
"There's nothing here!" Korjak was itching for a fight, or at least an explanation. "Can you detect any signs of life, Major?"  
  
"No…nothing." She was proved incorrect an instant later as something came out of a dark corridor to her left, grabbing her, and disappearing again behind a panel as her screams echoed for a moment, then stopped suddenly, with only a strained gargle.  
  
"Major!" The team rushed forward, drawing their rifles, and turned the corner, preparing to fire, aiming at…  
  
Nothing. No sign of the creature. Only the broken body of the Major, lying bleeding on the grating. Korjak growled loudly, and raised his rifle. "Find it. Kill it."  
  
The Crystal had advanced, mopping up the last pockets of resistance from the Gorn. On the bridge of the Maximillian, a small war of their own was brewing.  
  
"The Gorn seemed to have small success with their timed torpedo trick. Our torpedoes are more powerful then theirs." Admiral Lyon approached Captain Septaric in her ready room, as the rest of the bridge crew watched the battle silently.  
  
"We have not yet been directly attacked, and they could destroy us as simply as they destroyed the other ships." Captain Septaric countered.  
  
"Our allies have been attacked, which is as good as if we had been fired upon ourselves. Captain, we must make some show of force."  
  
"What about our away team, Admiral? What about our plan?"  
  
"We're out of time, Captain. They had their chance. The Gorn Homeworld is being attacked. We cannot guess the scale of the destruction the vessel will cause, how many lives will be taken. The Gorn already blame us, as do other races, Captain. They think we are in league with the vessel. If we do not take drastic measures…"  
  
"I am aware of the consequences, Admiral. But I have to do what I think is right. I am still the Captain of this ship…"  
  
The Admiral sighed. How had it come to this…anything but this. But it had to be done, for the future of the quadrant…indeed, for possibly the future of the universe. "Then I cannot allow you to be Captain any more."  
  
"What?"  
  
"For the good of the fleet, Captain Septaric. My years of experience with the Maximillian, with unknowns such as this one…"  
  
"…Then what happens next, Admiral…is on you." She fought her Klingon instinct to strike him, and instead left her…no, his ready room.  
  
As the phaser fire and the torpedoes rushed by, mostly around but sometimes inside the vessel, the Rapid Response team plus one moved cautiously through the vessel, searching for the one that had killed their teammate. Critch moved as one of them, scanning, even as he tried to shake the feeling that there was something very familiar about the figure that had killed the Major. He tried to shake it off, tried to think. There was something he was missing…something he should know.   
  
BEYOND THE FINAL FRONTIER  
  
CONTINUED NEXT MONTH  
  
FIND PREVIOUS CHAPTERS AT  
  
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	10. Revenge

Star Trek:   
  
Maximillian  
  
BEYOND THE FINAL FRONTIER  
  
Chapter Ten  
  
R E V E N G E  
  
Written by Chris Stephenson  
  
   
  
Editors Note:  This story is a serial novel, taking place about 3 years ago, using characters that served on the Maximillian at that point in time. New chapters can be found monthly in "The Mighty Max" and online at Maximillian.org Past chapters can also be found at Maximillian.org.     
  
What has come before…  
  
An Observatory has been destroyed by an object yet unknown to the Federation, and it has began a long journey to the heart of the Alpha Quadrant. The U.S.S. Maximillian, weary from a trying mission in the Menkare Expanse, and with an untested Captain, is the sole survivor of a small task force organized to halt the invasion, and has been charged with accompanying the ship to it's final destination, which now appears to be deep in Gorn space, following a small probe launched shortly before it's owner was destroyed…  
  
But Lieutenant Commander Critch Starblade has a plan, but one that he must be a part of, for reasons only he knows. He has disguised himself and snuck aboard a complicated away mission to the craft, and has met up with the Rapid Response team on board.   
  
As the crystal vessel attacks the last Gorn defenses, Admiral Lyon removes the Maximillian from Captain Septaric's control. He must now lead the Maximillian to victory, or defeat…  
  
Admiral Lyon stood alone in the Captain's ready room, adjacent to the bridge. He frowned, looking around, calming down. He suddenly felt a twinge of dread at the thought of returning to the bridge, of taking the command seat, of attempting to reverse decisions that never should have been made.  
  
He did not blame Captain Septaric. None of this was her fault. Indeed there was nothing that any member of the Maximillian could have done to salvage this. He knew that the blame could only rest with one man.  
  
The blame was his, and his alone.  
  
He shook off his dread. He was Admiral Robert S. Lyon. The highest ranked Admiral in all of Starfleet. He had served aboard many ships named Maximillian, had faced and outwitted threats too numerous to mention. In addition, he had successfully negoiated first contact situations too many times to count, often diffusing issues that threatened entire systems, to say nothing of the Maximillian itself.  
  
He was the great Admiral Lyon, a name that echoed through history as one of the greats of Starfleet. And now, he would prove his ability.  
  
As the ship shook from a nearby blast, he marched with all the dignitary and confidence he could muster out of the ready room, facing the music.  
  
  
  
A Gorn battlecruiser, the last vessel of it's class remaining after the massacre, roared overhead, vibrations from it's proximity to the crystal-shaped ship reverberating throughout the vast interior of the apparently deserted ship. For Lieutenant Commander Critch Starblade and the remaining members of Korjac's Rapid Response team, it was anything but empty.  
  
Korjac let a tooth-filled growl eminate from his thick Klingon throat.  
  
"Fan out, standard search spread." The team started to move apart. "Teams of two..." He grunted at Critch. "You're with me." Cradling a ready phaser rifle, Critch nodded, following him closely, scanning around with his superior vision. He switched through his varied visual operations, checking for heat signatures and life signs. He knew he would succeed where the rest of the away team had failed. He was no normal human, or even Klingon. He was an Android. He was superior.  
  
But if he had superior eyes in the back of his head, he would have been able to see behind him, slightly above and to the left, and found what he was searching for. The humanoid figure moved swiftly across the grated catwalk. As it moved, it cast a shadow upon two other members of the team. They stopped, holding still for a beat, and then spun around to face the monster, rifles at the ready. They aimed and faced...  
  
Nothing. Not a soul, nothing to have warranted their sudden movements. They breathed unsteadily, and one tapped her commbadge.  
  
"Shadow movement in my sector, sir."  
  
"Stay alert, Martinez. All units to her area."  
  
As the team began to move, almost as one, to the location of their comrade, a dark figure pounced upon Martinez, knocking her to the floor. As she tried to regain her senses, to fight back, the other half of the pair brought his rifle to bear, and fired a full-power blast into the back of the humanoid. It spun, grabbing the throat of the young man, lifting him into the air. As he struggled, he looked into the shadowed face of the humanoid, and a slight look of realization came to his face, even as his neck was snapped.  
  
The team advanced, witnessing the last moments of Ensign Robert Paulson. He fell, crumpling, to the hard grated floor of this strange ship. They could not make out the look of the humanoid through the dark, and dust clouds that had risen from it's landing. Even Critch could not see through the strange particles. They could only see that it was human-like, two arms and legs and a similar body type. Korjac grimaced at the sight of another one of his team dying, even as he watched the humanoid move back towards Lieutenant Martinez.  
  
"Open fire!" Korjac yelled loudly, carelessly, and the remaining team walked slowly at the creature, firing their phaser rifles quickly.  
  
The shots hit their mark, most of them anyway, but if it damaged the humanoid, it did not show it. Not stepping back for a moment, it leaped high into the air, overhead and then behind the team, grabbing the two response team members that were to the side of Korjac and Critch , and smashing them together with all it's might. Critch watched in horror as the bodies hit the floor, and he came to a sick realization, that this may be beyond any of them…any of them.  
  
Lieutenant Martinez had risen, and was firing blindly, angrily into the creature. It did not move towards her, only cocking it's head slightly. Critch, firing and moving closer, still could not see through the dim light clearly. He moved alongside Korjac, attempting to cut off the humanoid from advancing on Martinez.   
  
Their plan failed even as it began. The humanoid wrenched free a metallic pole, glanced at it, then threw it with laser precision and deadly accuracy. The pole hit and stabbed through Martinez, and she fell to the floor with a choke, her gun firing now uselessly into the air.  
  
The humanoid turned to Critch and Korjac, and stepped forward. Apparently it was having trouble seeing them as well. Critch decided to use this to their advantage, and threw caution to the wind. He quickly moved to the creature, ready to attack. The creature aimed and fired a punch at Critch, and with quick reflexes Critch caught the punch. He held the arm for a moment, trying to shove it back, or even break it, but he found he could not. The humanoid was as powerful as he was.  
  
The humanoid did not make any motion, even as Korjac moved behind him. Instead he just stared at Critch. A hole seemed to open through the dust particles just then, and Critch could see the eyes of his enemy. Familiar eyes…  
  
Korjac broke the moment by firing point blank into the humanoid's neck. The bolt seemed to be absorbed by the humanoid, and he flailed an arm back, knocking Korjac to the side. Critch was momentarily distracted, and the humanoid grabbed Critch, tossing him next to Korjac, near a dark catwalk. Critch rose slowly, weighing his options, and choosing the most obvious.  
  
Korjac lay, broken, bleeding, beaten. But not dead, not destroyed. Not yet. His armor broken, his commbadge snapped in two, He still attempted to rise. Critch put a hand on his chest, firmly yet harmlessly holding him down.   
  
"Today is not a good day to die." Critch said, ignoring the humanoid's movements toward Martinez's body, ignoring it reaching to remove the pole. He appraised the broken commbadge, and tapped his own. "Starblade to Maximillian. Beam me up." He tossed the commbadge as the vessel shook around him, and as the Maximillian's signal locked on to the commbadge, it landed on Korjac. He looked at Critch with a fire in his eyes as he disappeared in blue stars.  
  
Critch rose slowly, feeling no pain due to the absence of anything that could feel pain, yet still conscious of bruising on his legs. He focused on his enemy, his nemesis, this being that seemed to only exist to kill and destroy.   
  
The humanoid had pulled free the bloody pole, and faced Critch. It held his stance, as if staring him down, then threw the pole, just as it had done before. But this time, the outcome was unexpected. Critch grabbed the pole out of midair, using the momentum to spin around and fire it right back where it came from. Surprised, the humanoid was not able to do as Critch had done, and was speared through the lower stomach. This did get a reaction, as a guttural, yet human yelp emanated from the creature. It moved back, into the shadows, disappearing into the ship, as Critch moved forward, riding an artificial wave of adrenaline. As he marched, he noticed blood on the floor, at least what looked like blood. A quick scan revealed metallic particles, and many parts that were unknown. He decided to consider it blood, because it comforted him. If it could bleed, he could kill it. He moved towards the shadows where the humanoid had disappeared into, and spoke, somewhat to himself.  
  
"Just you and me now."  
  
"Starblade to Maximillian, beam me up." As Lyon re-entered the bridge, he heard the call. A moment of anger crossed his face, as he wondered why they should risk bringing Lieutenant Commander Starblade back, considering it was his own doings that had caused his current situation. He shook off that thought. He was now in command of this vessel, and Starblade was a member of his crew. All would and must be sacrificed for his crew. For this ship.  
  
"Bring him back!" He barked, and heads throughout the bridge snapped to look at him. Their opinions buried deep, they executed the orders as Lyon moved towards the…his chair. He glanced, noticing Captain Septaric had not left the bridge, as he had half-expected. Instead she was showing her true spirit, something Lyon supposed was due to her Klingon heritage. She would stand and fight, not for her Admiral, but for the Maximillian itself. She was silent too, though a look of suprising anger and hatred, emotions that he never associated with the woman, shown in her looks and gestures. She reluctantly moved from the chair, and whispered as she passed him, "They don't know." She then moved to the operations panels, gazing over the nervous young ensign, glancing at the statistics coming in. She spoke to Lyon without looking at him, and also to the computer, and the crew. "Transfer Command to Admiral Robert Lyon, Authorization Septaric 2-04" She turned and stared at him. "The ship is yours, Admiral."  
  
The crew was surprised, but they did not show it. The tension was building, however, the stress of being amidst the battle and the bridge conditions. Admiral T'Kill approached Lyon's side, speaking softly. "Are you out of your human mind?"  
  
"I know what I'm doing, Turock."  
  
"Here we go again." Blobbin said, as Turock returned to his side, choosing not to argue with Lyon. Not here, not now. "Batten down the hatches, Rob's going to try and lose another ship."  
  
"Status, Captain?" Lyon said loudly, though he could see what was happening by merely gazing at the viewscreen. The object had now moved close to the homeworld, not quite entering the atmosphere yet, and had slowed, mopping up what little resistance remained.  
  
"The vessel has slowed, and looks to be preparing to enter the atmosphere. Kragnar is in Engineering."  
  
He nodded. "Fine. We strike. Break off escort, charge all phaser banks and prepare the torpedoes." He glanced at Blobbin, then continued. "Prepare the Erresdorian shielding and torpedoes."   
  
Even Blobbin was surprised, though a tooth-filled grin spread over his face. He let out a war-whoop, and his body changed into the colors of a Indian brave uniform, complete with three bright purple feathers over his head. "GERANIMO!" He yelled, and quickly moved to a console, forming hands so he could input the correct commands.  
  
Turock was less impressed, and lost his temper for a quick moment. "You can't! They've been barely tested, and never in a battle situation! We have no idea if it'll have any effect, if it'll even protect the Max!"  
  
Blobbin didn't turn from where he was hurriedly punching the screen in front of him, assisted by a security officer. "Of course it'll work! The calculations came from my mind, you know." He formed a third arm with hand, and pointed at his head as he said this.  
  
Turock grimaced. "Yeah, consider the source!"  
  
"ADMIRAL!" Lyon bellowed, and Turock quieted quickly. "I have made my decision. We have stood by long enough, we cannot risk this planet's destruction, risk failure. The object must be stopped, and it must be stopped here. We must use everything at our disposal to succeed."  
  
"Destruction?" Captain Septaric turned, giving up all pretense of not listening to the conversation. "You think it can destroy…"  
  
"The Gorn Homeworld, Captain? I know it will. It's what it's here to do. Destroy. Kill every life in this universe, and beyond."  
  
"How do you know? How can you possibly know this?"  
  
Lyon was silent a moment, delicately preparing his answer. "Because I know. And I know what I'm here to do, what we're all here to do. So lets do it." He glanced up at the viewscreen, glanced at the object which was now slowly sinking into the planet's atmosphere. "Pursuit course, helm. Prepare a spread of Quantum Torpedoes at my mark, to detonate when I give the word. Go."   
  
The great ship Maximillian gained momentum, and followed the object into the clouds, soaring as the sky rushed by it, as the fires attempted to ignite on it's hull from the heat shield. A ship overdue for an overhaul, A displaced Captain, a worn down crew, and a vengeful Admiral all dove towards the planets surface with the same drive and purpose. The torpedoes launched, and the battle began.  
  
Critch walked across the catwalk, and gazed below him. It seemingly was a sort of bridge, connecting portions of this ship. Below him was nothing, at least that's what the looks of it were. His vision, even zoomed in, could only make out the barest glimpses of other catwalks, other walkways, and other devices that he could only begin to guess their meaning and purpose. The bridge went on for a long while, a half-mile if his calculations were correct, but Critch knew the creature had come this way. He was caught in a game now, he knew it, but he knew it was a game he could win. He had hurt the humanoid, chasing it off. He should be cautious, he knew. The old adage came to his mind, nothing being more dangerous than a wounded animal. And that's what this was, an animal, feeding off of death and destruction like it was a full-course meal. He glanced up, and saw clouds rushing by. He couldn't guess the purpose of the object, which now seemed to be a machine, self running and correcting. He put it out of his mind. He had to focus on the task at hand.   
  
As he moved forward, he found his first clue that things were not as they seemed. The metal pole lay in the middle of the walk, glistening with a silver ooze on one end. The humanoid had recovered, it appeared. As he picked up the pole, investigating and scanning it, he was interrupted by a voice, the same voice that they had all heard echoing through the ship before. The voice of the humanoid.  
  
"YOU HAVE COME" It spoke, loudly echoing off the unseen walls of the vessel. Critch shook off the noise.  
  
"I'VE COME FOR YOU! SHOW YOURSELF, MURDERER."  
  
"YOU HAVE INVADED MY VESSEL."  
  
"AND YOU'VE INVADED MY UNIVERSE!"  
  
"YOUR…" The voice stopped, sounding shaken, even a bit confused. "YOU DON'T REMEMBER."  
  
Critch stopped, and his voice was no more than a whisper. "Remember what?" He tried to track down the owner of the voice, tried to get back to a position where he held the advantage, but was distracted by a reflection off of a beam, a blueish star, growing larger…  
  
The torpedo came through the ship, just as the weapons had done before. However this time was different. As it rushed overhead and past Critch, it suddenly burst. Critch was blinded for an instant, followed by a rush of fire and power, surging through the ship. Critch was sent over the side of the catwalk, grasping a side, hanging on with one hand for his life. The Quantum torpedo had burst in a perfect spot, not seriously damaging anything, due to the different frequencies. Critch silently gave thanks for that fact, then cursed himself for not simply beaming in a torpedo, thereby changing the frequency of the torpedo, allowing it to be a part of this ship, and blowing it apart that way. He attempted to pull himself up, when he saw the legs of the humanoid above him, who had like Critch and the ship, though the sudden vibrations had caused many sparks and loose wiring, survived no worse for wear. Critch's eyes scanned upward, and stopped at the face. He blinked. The humanoid let a smile creep across his own face. Critch shook his head. It couldn't be possible…  
  
The humanoid was, in every way and every look, identical to Critch Starblade.  
  
The doppelganger chuckled a bit to himself, stared down, and offered a hand of assistance.   
  
Thoughts flooded Critch's mind, thoughts of what this could mean, of what this must mean, of what he could and could not do next. He chose what he couldn't.  
  
The doppelganger simply said, quietly. "Welcome home."   
  
Critch let go of the grating, and dropped into the darkness below.  
  
"Fire! Fire at Will!"  
  
With Admiral Lyon's command, the torpedo spread shot out of the launchers and encircled the object.   
  
"Detonate!" The torpedoes exploded in a ball of blue blaze. The ship seemed to ripple with the shockwaves, and slowed more.  
  
Those on the ground could not forget the sight. The Crystal ship exploding out of the clouds, a Sovereign-Class vessel hot on the object's tail. They flew close to the ground, as close as they dared, above the mountains and forests, and the Maximillian's hull markings, were it to slow down enough, could be plainly read from the surface. As the object flew, a section of plating on it's backside facing the Maximillian began to shine brightly. As the smoke gushed of the superheated Max, fresh from the heat shield, Admiral Lyon shouted, "Brace yourselves!"  
  
The object fired a single beam from it's rear, striking the Maximillian on it's bow. The command staff flew from their positions, Blobbin in the rear shouting, "GAH! I'm buckling, Admiral!", his form bouncing around the bridge. "STATUS!" Lyon yelled from the floor.  
  
"SHIELDS HOLDING! DOWN TO 75%"  
  
The object, nonplussed with the Maximillian's resistance to the weapon that had destroyed everything it had previously come into contact with, continued to fire. Again, and again, at the same spot it had struck. At the same time, there seemed to be motion at the bottom spire of the object. Panels slid as it moved, and a sharp yellow beam erupted out of the newly created hole. It struck the planet's surface, digging deep into it, burning instantly through rock and rubble.  
  
As the ship shook, and sparks began to rain down upon them, the crew of the Maximillian stood defiant to the last. "KEEP FIRING!" Lyon ordered his beleaguered crew, even as he punched the panel himself, having moved towards a control console, not satisfied with the smaller version on his chair. Septaric, shaken, angry, yelled out across the bridge. "WE HAVE TO PULL BACK! SHIELDS ARE COLLAPSING!"  
  
"WE CANNOT FALL BACK! NOT NOW, NOT EVER!" Lyon was lost in the moment, lost in the possibilities of destroying this thing. He was so close.   
  
Turock yelled from where he was assisting Blobbin, "DO YOU WANT TO LOSE ANOTHER MAXIMILLIAN?"  
  
It hit Lyon hard, the reminder of what had occurred the last time he had taken such a large part in the command of a starship. He had forgotten what it truly meant, forgotten in favor of a life in the Admiralty, a life behind a desk, directing wargames and fleet movements as though they were army soldiers in a backyard sandbox.  
  
The final reminder came quickly. Captain Septaric had saw her console, had saw what was coming, knew the overload that Lyon was causing by endlessly firing would take out half the bridge if she didn't stop him. She knew what she had to do. Not for Lyon, not for anyone here, but for the Maximillian. Her first and only command. She rushed at Lyon, screaming, and before he could react, she shoved him out of the way, using every bit of her Klingon strength. As he flew to the floor, the console erupted with a powerful blast. The fire that seared forth caught Septaric's body. The console exploded, sending out a concussion wave that knocked the remaining members of the bridge crew to the ground. Septaric flew backwards, against the First Officer's chair.  
  
Lyon moved to his feet, dreading, knowing, remembering, and wishing for a different outcome, ANY outcome but this. His wishes did not come true, as he saw the scarred and burned body of Captain S'Quid Tai Septaric. Dead.  
  
Shaken, cold, shocked, Admiral Robert S. Lyon rose to his feet, unsteadily rocking as pieces of room collapsed in a corner. He rasped out a few words, too quiet to hear.  
  
"Admiral…?" Commander Ayers asked, having regained her post in the Communications chair.  
  
"I SAID FALL BACK!" He yelled, angrily, and sank into the Captain's chair. No. His chair.  
  
The Maximillian pulled up, and was further damaged by the stress of exiting the planet's atmosphere so quickly. The beam from the object continued for another full minute, and if the object was concerned with the Maximillian, it made no move. Instead, it closed it's bottom panels once the beam ceased, and broke off from it's low orbit. It peeled into the atmosphere, much more gracefully than the Max, and moved past it, not even bothering to attack the smoking severely damaged vessel. As the ships moved away from the planet, the rut made by the beam began to glow with a bright yellow haze. Lava erupted from it, but soon even that was overshadowed by the light. The planet began to spin faster. Intense quakes rocked the entire globe. Beams of light began to break through the crust and the ground. The Gorn Homeworld spun and spun until it could spin no more. A bright flash of yellow light and fire flew from the planet, rocks and debris spreading through the once proud system. And after the light dissipated, nothing remained of the world.  
  
Uncaring, unimpressed, and emotionless, the object moved into the void, silent, soulless, and disappeared.  
  
  
  
HE KNEW.  
  
The information coming in was off the charts, what little he could read as the light overshadowed everything else in the room. The Admiral had dropped to the floor, attempting to protect his vision. But the young Captain no longer cared. He felt fear, for once in his life, actual fear at what this other place was capable of, of what it had done before.  
  
And now that they were aware of him, of the Federation, of all of this, he was afraid of what it would do again.  
  
He thought quickly, as the panels and computers began exploding around him. He sent the destruct signal. He would later swear that he had not sent the probe in, that he had no control over it, and he would be absolved of any responsibility. But he knew the truth. He had to get close to the anomaly…closer to knowing more.   
  
Half in and half out of the anomaly, the probe self-destructed. A bright flash took place, and then simply, everything was gone. There were no records remaining on the ship, every system and back-up system fried in the feedback. The only one who knew what could happen was Lyon.  
  
And he knew that if anything was to happen, it would be his fault.  
  
His responsibility.  
  
And his alone. 


	11. Revolutions

Star Trek: Maximillian BEYOND THE FINAL FRONTIER  
  
Chapter Eleven R E V O L U T I O N S  
  
Written by Chris Stephenson  
  
   
  
Editors Note:  This story is a serial novel, taking place about 3 years ago, using characters that served on the Maximillian at that point in time. New chapters can be found monthly in "The Mighty Max" and online at Maximillian.org Past chapters can also be found at Maximillian.org.     
  
Critch blinked, and awoke, lying in a pile of broken metal and grating. He shook off the general fuzziness that affected him as his systems attempted to readjust themselves, and he remembered what had happened. The sight of the other occupant of the vessel had shaken him, and he chose to believe that he had imagined the entire incident, that possibly the visage of his adversary was so terrible that his systems simply couldn't comprehend it, and reset themselves, displaying Critch's face. He closed his eyes, trying to shake off the memory. If he had seen what he knew he had, what could this mean? He couldn't believe it, he wouldn't believe it. No, he would instead focus on the task at hand: Finding the power source of this vessel, and disabling it, or destroying it. No easy task, considering what the sheer size of this vessel was now. But it had to be done. It would be better if he knew how much time he had, if Admiral Lyon had been more forthcoming with his information.  
  
It was Lyon, Critch decided, Lyon that had caused all of this. If the plan had went as scheduled, if he had been allowed to come along and be in charge instead of some obscure excuse, about how he was 'too close to the situation', things would have turned out much different. Instead of menial work on the Maximillian, he would have been able to pour over their plans for the extra time needed to make them successful, instead of the disaster they had turned out to be. It was a miracle that things were going as well as they were. At the very least, he was still here, and that brought some comfort to his mind. He chuckled as he began to stand slowly, his circuits and gears noisily complaining as he did so, even though he felt no pain.   
  
He was sure Lyon was mad as he'd ever been, knowing that Critch was the only thing left that could stop this thing. Critch stretched as he reached his standing position, still unable to shake some long-standing provision in his program to act as human-like as possible, and looked around his new location.  
  
It looked, not surprisingly, much the same as it did on the upper levels. Grating and catwalks and alien panels stretching into the distance for miles and miles, going on for much longer than the exterior of the vessel would suggest, and Critch thought a moment about what this entailed. He had heard things about subspace pockets, ships from the future that could hide things much larger than themselves inside them. He wondered for a moment if this might be some sort of holodeck. The average holodeck had a relatively small size, but when the right program was running, would have expanses as large as the imagination of the user, and sometimes beyond even that. He dismissed it almost as soon as it came to his mind. The fall he had taken seemed to discount that hypothesis. He had turned off most of his sensors on the way down, did not want to know if his existence would be ended by a sharp spear or something else. He just hoped for the best, as usual, counting on his superiority and his uncanny luck to come through this ok. He began to walk carefully, avoiding the debris that he had apparently knocked down when he either plowed through something or ran into during his plummet. He thought more about the ship, and its vast power.  
  
And what of the being in this place? The apparent Doppelganger that had killed members of the Rapid Response Team, had fought Critch to a standstill, and then, just as he had began, had withdrew, and had eventually tried to welcome Critch. He didn't know what it meant, and Critch hated being in a place where he didn't have all the answers, or couldn't pretend he knew everything about the situation. He shook his head as he strolled slowly through the lower deck, glancing all around, looking for any sign of his adversary. He thought about the few races that he knew of that were capable of taking on other life form's looks. Certainly the most dangerous beings were the Founders, beings that had led an invasion recently into the quadrant. But this didn't seem their style. They seemed more likely to use other races to do their dirty work, or simply just to blend in among the Federation, entangling themselves in the politics until such time that they could attack with the most damage. He mulled over the other races. Some hadn't been seen in some time, others were too rare to even be an option. He supposed he couldn't remove the Errsedorians, Admiral Blobbin's race, completely from this thought. Normally Blobbin was in the form that had given him his name, a blob of mercury with a great grin. From what he had heard, though, the race was pretty far away, and not capable of such a thought. This was the race, Critch had heard from Blobbin's stories, that had let themselves be enslaved by an empire just because their homeworld was boring. He allowed a smile as he thought of an evil Errsedorian, and shook off that thought. But the blood of this thing was silver, that was true enough. It had left a shining splatter after the initial encounter, and this worried Critch most of all.   
  
Because he knew that the fluids that lubricated the circuits inside him, though the Federation and he himself had no idea of their content, were silver and thick, like blood itself, and just like the liquids of his enemy. He wouldn't allow himself to see the obvious, having learned many times since his awakening that the obvious is usually only there to throw you off the scent of what the truth really is. He wouldn't, couldn't, let himself even consider the fact that this thing was one of his people. That they could be on the same side.  
  
Critch continued to move for several more minutes, noting that the exterior of the vessel had moved away from the populated systems of the Gorn worlds, and he wondered for a moment what had happened, regretting that he had switched off so many of his recording sensors from the fall. He figured he would find out later. There were few stars in the region of space that the vessel was moving through, and so the interior was dark, only lit by a few purple lights of curious design, sort of a loop hanging from a string which started out from the very top of the vessel, a top that Critch couldn't see even with his vision. Critch's vision did not fail him when it came to studying his surroundings, however, as he could make out the many panels and lettering that he had passed by. He noted that the coloring of the panels had changed, though he still couldn't read what they had said. They did seem somewhat familiar, though unmistakably alien to any race, species, or group that the Federation had ever encountered. He was able to extrapolate from what he knew that he was in a different section of the ship, and this brought some comfort, because it promoted familiarity, that this thing had at least something in common with ships that he had come into contact with, with the type of equipment and systems that he had been trained and learned on, and that would mean that everything would be run from a central power source. Which could be destroyed, or disabled. And that was a very encouraging thought.   
  
Finding it amongst this expanse, however, was another thing altogether. Baby Steps, he reminded himself. First he get his bearings, then he would find the source.  
  
What did worry him, more than anything, was the fact that the Maximillian was not following him. He had grown accustomed to the ship, to it's crew, and considered it his home more than any other ship he had ever belonged to. It was as strong as any ship in the fleet, certainly had more character than the almighty Enterprise, which seemed to just be in the right place in the right time more than anything else. He had faith in Captain Septaric, despite her status as a rookie to the Captaincy, to get the job done, though he would have been a bit more proactive in attacking this vessel. But alls well that ends well, he thought, still confident in his own abilities, and the abilities of the Mighty Max. He did wonder where they were, though...probably cooking up a surprise attack, knowing the collection of knowledge that existed on that ship right now. Three of the most decorated Admirals in the fleet were on the ship right now, he knew they would not disappoint.  
  
A sudden clanging sound, as if something clattering to the metal ground, caught Critch's ear, and he stopped suddenly, taking up a defensive position. He waited a full minute before walking again, his hearing senses up as high as he could. But there was no sound, and no sight of anything. So he walked again, more alert as he went, knowing one thing now.  
  
He was not alone.  
  
The Maximillian floated in space, having been beaten soundly.   
  
Barely escaping the destruction of the Gorn planet, it was severely damaged. Many of it's systems lay in ruin, and many crewmembers had been lost in the battle. The Errsedorian shielding had worked, for the most part, protecting from the beam that had in one hit destroyed everything else it had encountered, including an entire station, the Archer Observatory. But for the moment, all thoughts on the bridge, of the remaining command crew, were of their Captain, still lying against the first officer's chair, burnt, dead. And all eyes were on Admiral Robert Lyon, as he slumped in the chair that had just recently been reluctantly given to him. And for the first time, Lyon realized that he may have made a mistake. He looked up, at the crew looking at him, some with tears in their eyes, all expectant, waiting for his orders. And he saw Admiral T'Kill, his fists clenched, his head down. Even Admiral Blobbin could not make a joke at this point. And if he had attempted to, T'Kill would have stopped him.  
  
T'Kill shook his head, and muttered, "We shouldn't have come out here."  
  
Blobbin glanced up. "Why not? I'm certainly having a swell time." A sarcastic little grimace could be noticed, but T'Kill said nothing, as Lyon stood up, finally. Damn it, it was his ship now. It may be a mistake, but he would not let Septaric die in vain, and he would not let the aggression of the vessel go unpunished. The crew looked expectantly, seeming to stare into his soul, as he spoke.  
  
"Medical teams to the bridge." He spoke silently, directly to the computer. "Stand down from red alert." He waited for the lights to return to their usual state of brightness, which only served to illuminate the destruction on the bridge. He turned to Science Officer Kelvok. "Send all sensors information since the explosion to my ready room." He turned again as another officer, Ben Ayers, rushed to a still functioning console. "Mr. Ayers, best possible speed on last known course and trajectory of the vessel."  
  
"Yes sir...but Engineering reports that warp speed is unavailable..."  
  
"Tell them to fix it. Best possible speed, Mr. Ayers."  
  
"Aye." Lyon looked over the bridge, took a last look at Captain Septaric's body, and silently cursed this turn of events. Then walked steadily, quickly to his ready room. He knew he would be followed, and wished that this upcoming argument would be as private as possible. As he entered the room, and the door closed behind him, he heard it immediately open again, and knew who had entered the room. Of the people he trusted most in the world, it was his friend, Turock T'Kill, that he trusted the most. Having met in the academy, along with Admiral Blobbin, and being close ever since, the two men, one human and one Romulan, knew each other better than any other person on the Maximillian. And they had seen their share of Maximillians destroyed. The name had followed them throughout their careers, and both were irrevocably changed by it. By this, along with everything else, they were connected for life. Lyon, then, knew what Turock was there for.  
  
"Go ahead, Turock." Lyon sat behind the desk, and folded his hands together.  
  
Turock shook his head. "What the hell do you think you're doing? Taking back this ship, trying to get us all killed..."  
  
Lyon sighed. "Trying to stop this....trying to keep anything else from happening..."  
  
"It's time to stop, Rob, we couldn't help the Gorn, and now Septaric..."  
  
"Over a billion lives just ended, Turock." Lyon stood up, and walked around the desk. "And that thing is headed towards Earth. Or, at least, that's where it was headed when it disappeared.   
  
Back on it's original course." And it's my fault. Lyon didn't add what he felt in his heart.  
  
"Get the fleet together, Rob. It's too big for just the Maximillian anymore."  
  
"Not yet. We're still in one piece..."  
  
"Barely." T'Kill interrupted.  
  
Nonplussed, Lyon continued. "And now we have the element of surprise. They're going where we're going. And we can hurt them."  
  
"Your torpedoes didn't do anything to them last time!"  
  
"The yield was too small, if we increase it..."  
  
"Rob, even Blobbin doesn't understand Errsedorian Technology! If we don't watch what we're doing..."  
  
"You rang?" Blobbin pudged his way into the ready room, glancing at the two Admirals. Turock stopped mid-sentence.  
  
"Uh...if you're here, and we're here..."  
  
"Relax, I left Kelvok in charge out there, he at least acts like he knows what he's doing. Unlike you people. The weapons can go higher in yield. I oversaw their construction, and they did come here with me, remember. And we're all going to blow up pretty big anyway, we might as well do it with my rockets o' fun."  
  
Turock shook his head. "You two are dealing with a lot more than just us here. The lives of every human on Earth could depend on us..."  
  
"Call your ships, Turock." Lyon looked at him seriously.  
  
"What?"  
  
"If I'm wrong, then the fleet will try and take care of it. They have to be outfitted with the new torpedoes and shields, however, otherwise they'll last about as long as the Gorn did. Blobbin, you see to that." Blobbin formed a short arm out of himself, waved it around in the air a few times, and saluted wildly.   
  
"There's your insurance. At last speed, before it headed off, the vessel will arrive in Sector 1 in.." He glanced at the screen on his desk. "About Three solid days. Should be enough time to form some kind of fleet together?"  
  
"Depending on how far away the current missions are." Turock said, gruffly.  
  
"What happens if this "Rob fleet" doesn't win?" Blobbin added.  
  
"Guys...we don't have any other options. With any luck, we can disable it before it gets to Earth."  
  
"I'll put in for the council to evacuate..." Turock went to leave the room.  
  
"Don't...It won't make any difference if we fail." Lyon said, sadly.  
  
Blobbin shook the head part of his form. "Rob...I'm the last person to tell you about going off half-Looney, but you've been acting Ahab-y this whole trip. At least tell us what's going on. You know something, fine, but at least tell us what's happening!"  
  
Lyon shook his head. "It's my responsibility to keep this ship safe, to keep this fleet together. I can't do this with anyone else."  
  
Turock fumed for a moment. "Damn it, Rob, it's too late for your soliquies. We're all in this together. Even the puddle there." Blobbin looked affronted, but said nothing as Turock continued. "It's always been that way, since the whole thing began! The three Captains, and now the three Admirals, and it's always going to be us, until it's all over! You can't shut us out, not from this. Listen to what's in your head!"  
  
Lyon chuckled. "A Romulan telling me about controlling my feelings. The decision has been made, gentlemen." Lyon sat, punching a few buttons on his screen. "Blobbin, call Starfleet, start getting those ships together. Turock...before you begin getting hold of your ships...report to Engineering."  
  
"Engineering! Now wait just a damn minute..."  
  
"Engineering is where Kragnar is, and I'd very much like it if he could be told about his sister before it starts spreading through the ship."  
  
"And where are you going to be?" Blobbin said, accusingly.  
  
Lyon stood, pulling down on his uniform shirt, and walked around the table. "Stellar Cartography. Getting some exact locations of this thing, and where we can head it off at."  
  
Turock looked at Lyon, angrily. "Fine. Kelvok seems capable enough...I would recommend relinquishing command to him, Rob, once this is all over with."  
  
"Weren't you the one that argued against Septaric being in command? Argued that we should look outside the Max for once after what happened with Tamak?"  
  
"I saw him when we were under fire, Rob. How long has he been with us, seen the things we've seen? Man can hold his own."  
  
"Duly noted, Admiral. Let's get to work." Together, the three Admirals moved out of the ready room, united in purpose, even if they were divided by their feelings, and opinions.  
  
"Hold the cords together! Switch those circuits out! We need it now, mister!" Chief Engineer Amy Armstrong Thomas was too busy to think about what she was saying. Operating solely on instinct and adrenaline, she moved through the top level of Engineering with drive and purpose. Her mind focused on one thing: Getting this ship back together, fulfilling the wishes of the Admiralty. That was the mission sent down from the Bridge, and she would be damned if she didn't do her absolute best to fulfill their wishes, despite her inexperience. Captain Septaric was inexperienced too, and look how far she got? Up there, together with the Admirals, fighting against things that she couldn't even begin to imagine. She much preferred it down here, around the machines and the people that she understood. Aliens and strange vessels were foreign to her, and nothing that she wished to investigate. Down here, in the engineering bay of the Maximillian, she knew every piece of equipment, and every thing that could happen with it.   
  
Maybe she wasn't the best in the fleet, but she knew this ship better than anyone else, and for her, that was enough.  
  
She paced the floor, spotting sparks flying out of consoles, and realized that at this point she didn't really have to issue any orders. Anything that she was going to say was already being done. They were doing it, they were winning the war. Soon the power would be restored, and they would be able to go to warp, if their Captain deemed it necessary. And everything would return to normal, and she could resume her usual state of improving the ship's systems, and getting them to operate at maximum capacity. She smiled almost in spite of herself. For once, everything was going to work out.  
  
As she looked down upon her people, busily fixing the many damaged consoles and circuits, and trying their best to prevent an unlikely warp core breach, she noticed a curious sight. Admiral T'Kill, walking purposefully, yet slowly, through the deck. She was about to call down to him, when she realized by the look on his face that he was not there to share good news, and he wasn't looking for her. Instead, he had chosen a deliberate path, finding Commander Kragnar, still ordering scared-looking ensigns around. A Klingon's touch is something that was needed around here at times, she noted, if nothing else but to keep discipline up. She watched curiously, stopping her rushing around for one moment as the Admiral reached the Klingon, and gestured for Kragnar to follow him into an empty room, usually used for staff meetings. She watched through the window there, not hearing any of the words through the glass and the now closed door as Turock spoke, his face a picture of serious discussion, and he watched as, after a moment, Kragnar seemed to deflate, his Klingon bravado and bulk leaving him. He began to breathe heavy, and Turock frowned, put a hand on his shoulder, and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. Within an instant, Kragnar transformed. He could still not be heard over the roar of the work being done, but Thomas could see his frustration, and he appeared to bellow mournfully, and began angrily smashing chairs against the window, the doors, the desk, breaking the wooden table into a splintered pile. It took Lieutenant Thomas a moment before she realized what was said, and for a moment, she felt like smashing things too. 


End file.
